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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24835402">Stressed, Distressed and a Bit of a Mess</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWhoWearsBlack/pseuds/TheGirlWhoWearsBlack'>TheGirlWhoWearsBlack</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stressed, Distressed and a Bit of a Mess [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Alternate Season/Series 14, Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Police Procedural, Slow Burn, slight AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:06:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>171,428</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24835402</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWhoWearsBlack/pseuds/TheGirlWhoWearsBlack</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Arguing that Vivian Contreras, needs more emotional intelligence in order to be fit for a position at one most distinguished yet most demanding units in the whole Bureau, Dr. Spencer Reid unsuccessfully tries to protect her from the crudeness of the daily job. Determined to prove him wrong, she ends up in a downward spiral after inserting herself in various cases that ultimately shows her that life is not as simple and easy as she thought. </p><p>With her sanity being put to test, Vivian deals with the horrors of murder, socializing as adults and dating.</p><p>New updates every Wednesday!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stressed, Distressed and a Bit of a Mess [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796458</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. PROLOGUE: The Black Portable Battery and The Floor that made it Invisible</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic takes place after season 13.<br/>It is an alternate season 14.<br/>Includes spoilers and references from previous seasons, including some re-imagined events from season 14.</p><p>Beta'd by the amazing, most dedicated and supporting: cls2256<br/>I also wanted to credit hailbabel for helping me out sorting the title and tagging and her overall patient with me.</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alright, this is it.</p><p>Finally the last class of the last semester of my Culture History degree.</p><p>I tried to keep myself focused on whatever the hell was happening in the front of the room. Graduation was just around the corner; even though I had gone through this before it still felt like the first time, with a tickling stomach and an irrational fear of failing. Again, nothing was going to happen, nothing was going to change. This major was just another title, simple initials before my name on my curriculum vitae.</p><p>I already had a steady job in the FBI, where I was happy. But still, leaving school and jumping back into the real world was always scary<em>.</em></p><p>“So, Miss Contreras, what do we use philosophy for?”</p><p>Oh <em>crab</em>, that’s right, I’m still in class. Last class is still class.</p><p>This was a pretty simple question for anyone who doesn't know a thing about Philosophy. However, for someone who spent the past six months learning about the subject and its doctrines throughout history, this was one of the most complex questions ever. The only question more critical, in my mind, would be 'what is Philosophy?'</p><p>I scratched my left eyebrow nervously as I  to buy some time. Everyone was looking at me with sharp eyes, especially my teacher: Doctor Spencer Reid. No matter how many classes I've had with him, no matter how many times he has addressed me, I still couldn't behave completely normal in his presence. That wasn't my fault, it was<em> his.</em></p><p>"Assuming that philosophy is used for something is a fallacy, specifically a <em>plurium interrogationum, </em>which literally translates as 'multiple questions,' but is commonly known as a 'complex question," this means that…"</p><p>“The question contains an assumption of something that hasn’t been proven.” He interjected. "Good job, Miss Contreras. It seems that you still remember our first lessons."</p><p>Dr. Reid smiled at me for a fraction of a second before nodding with approval and moving his eyes around the room, looking for someone else who might want to answer his questions.</p><p>"Now, who would like to tell me what would the correct question be?"</p><p>I stared at him. It didn’t matter that I was aware of it, I just could not stop, nor any other girl in class could. But again, no one could blame us; this was on<em> him. </em></p><p>Dr. Reid was a 38-year-old man, still single, albeit no one could figure out why. He was tall, slender, with sharp, manly facial features just like his thick lips and model-like jawline. Silky waves of brunette hair cascaded to his shoulders effortlessly, and his hazel eyes dazzled as he spoke. He was handsome, no doubt, but that wasn’t what made him attractive. It was his dorky, awkward personality, his sweetness, and kindness that contrasted against his highly-above-average intelligence. Holding a B.A. in Psychology, Sociology, and Philosophy, as well as Ph.D.s in Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics, Dr. Spencer Reid was a genius. </p><p>A weird, cute genius. </p><p>Did I mention that he had an eidetic memory <em>and </em>could read about 20,000 words per minute? Plus, he was a supervisory special agent from the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI. I could go on for hours…</p><p>Honestly, I didn't realize when the class ended. I don't remember what Dr. Reid's closing was, or if he even dismissed everyone in the room. The moment I saw the girls in the row in front of me standing up and putting their stuff away, I did the same. </p><p>I closed my notebook and packed it in my bag. I wasn't even sure why I'd took it out in the first place, this being the last lecture of the year. Nothing significant was covered, I didn't need to pay too close of attention. We were supposed to go only to check our grades, but no one did. Everyone just wanted to hear Dr. Reid talk about everything he knew one last time before leaving for good.</p><p>"Miss Contreras,"</p><p>I heard my professor's voice resonating in the almost empty classroom. I must've looked confused as he walked toward me, for he gave me a reassuring smile.</p><p>"There’s nothing wrong, I just wanted to congratulate you."</p><p>"Me?" I asked, with a not so confident tone. "Why?"</p><p>"For coming up first in my class. I don't mean to brag, but this is the hardest Philosophy class at this school."</p><p>"Really? I had no idea… thanks, for everything. I think I learned more these past months than in my whole academic career."</p><p>"It's my job to communicate my knowledge, Miss Contreras. It's always refreshing to have a student who is so invested in the subject," He smiled easily at me once again. "One that actually contributes to the class and to my own personal growth."</p><p>I didn't know how to answer him. This was a compliment in 'Dr. Reid' language. Unfortunately, I still didn't know how to fluidly speak it.</p><p>"You can just call me Vivian, Dr. Reid." </p><p>I spoke without any hesitation but immediately regretted it. He stared at me for a couple of seconds, trying to figure out what he was supposed to answer. I knew Dr. Reid wasn't great in social situations, but the pause in the conversation was more prolonged than comfortable.</p><p>"You can call me Spencer…" He finally said.</p><p>The idea of calling him just 'Spencer' was a little bit weird. The age gap was not brutal, only 11 years, but he was still an authority figure in college and in the FBI.</p><p>Not that he knew I was also an agent, but to be fair, I was the one who suggested the first-name-basis relationship. </p><p>A beeping noise echoed the now-empty auditorium. It took me a few seconds to identify it was Dr. Reid's phone. He looked at his phone, frowned, and then let out an apologetic sigh.</p><p>"I'm sorry, I have to take this..."</p><p>"I know, duty calls— I gotta go anyway. Have a good day, Spencer."</p><p>"You too... Mi—uh, <em>Vivian</em>."</p><p>The rest of the day was uneventful. I spent the afternoon at the college library, reading some archives, and finishing paperwork for the job. It was supposed to be my free day from the FBI, but my current boss was a pain in the <em>ax</em>. Everything regarding an analysis of recent home invasions in Virginia had to be done by the end of the day <em>today</em>. Being an agent for only three years and a half, my job had been assisting a team of the Justice Department's Forensic Psychologists. I file their assessments and previous profiles, analyze them, and help evaluate the criminal phenomena in the USA to create a comprehensive database.</p><p>
  <em>Fun! Yay!</em>
</p><p>When I was done, I tried to check the time on my phone, but the black mirror never turned into my colorful wallpaper. This was just fantastic— my phone was out of battery. I immediately searched for a wall clock, found a big one over the main entrance. It was nearly 10:00 pm, the library was about to close for the day. </p><p>I packed my laptop, files, and notebooks in my bag and reached for my portable battery in hopes of obtaining a slight charge for my cell phone. I couldn't stand the idea of going home alone late at night without being able to communicate whatsoever. A lot of things could happen to a woman alone in the D.C. streets at night. </p><p>I dug through my bag, demi-swearing under my breath because I wasn't able to recall where I'd put my portable battery. I knew I had it with me at lunchtime, so it had to be one of the three places I visited after.  </p><p>The auditorium building was deserted, as I'd expected. No one had any reason to stay so late— well, except for the maintenance crew and me. </p><p>I entered the auditorium, scanning the seats around where I'd sat during Dr. Reid's lecture. The black battery must have blended with the floor or was underneath the seats because it wasn't in plain sight. The room was dark, I wished I had my phone to light up the area. If I did, I wouldn't have been on my hands and knees on a sticky, dark auditorium floor. </p><p>"Who's there?"</p><p><em>"Holy crab!" </em>I screamed, genuinely surprised at the unexpected voice in the seemingly lonely room. </p><p>I jumped a little, hitting my head in the corner of a chair. I moaned in pain but ceased after my brain processed whose voice had spoken. I stood up slowly with my left hand over my forehead covering where I just hit myself. </p><p>"It's Vivian Contreras, Dr. Reid."</p><p>"Ah! Vivian! What are you doing here?"</p><p>He walked right up to me, his cellphone in his left hand, flashlight functioning, his other hand was pressed on his gun underneath his black jacket. Slowly, he relaxed the grip, and then let his hand drop to his side.</p><p>"I was just looking for my portable battery, my phone's dead, I can't go home like that." I shrugged my shoulders while still rubbing my forehead. "What are you doing here, <em>Spencer?" </em>I asked, remembering the first name basis we agreed on earlier in the day.</p><p>"I forgot to take some papers with me, I left in a rush in the afternoon," he said, looking directly to my recent shallow wound "Are you ok, Vivian?"</p><p>"Oh, yeah, I just hit my head with the chair" I laughed gently at my own misfortune. "You scared me, I thought I was alone."</p><p>He smiled a little as his cheeks turned a twinge of pink. "Oh, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to. I had no idea it was you…"</p><p>This was the socially awkward Spencer Reid, not the confident lecturer and FBI agent Dr. Reid, and it was lovely. "May I—can I help you in any way?"</p><p>"Actually, yes, can you direct your flashlight to the floor so I can look for my battery, please?"</p><p>He got into a pseudo-squat position so the light would be at the necessary height. I went back to my hands and knees to look under the seats for the damn battery, thankful to have a bit of light now.</p><p>"You do know how many germs and pathogenic agents, in general, are on the floor you are putting your hands on right now, right? I highly suggest that you wash your hands meticulously after this."</p><p>"Mm-hmm…" I answered, not really focusing on his words but instead on trying to reach the battery that I spotted behind one of the screwed-down seats. I growled unconsciously because of how much effort I was putting in the action. </p><p>"It's useless, I can't reach it. Do you have, by any chance, a cane or something long and skinny?”</p><p>I could already tell by the look in Spencer's eyes that he had a solution, but wasn't thrilled about it. </p><p>"Stand up," he said with a regretful grimace. "I'll get it."</p><p>He handed me his phone to shine on the battery, while he got on his knees and used his own arm to reach. Successfully, he stood up, holding the little black rectangle. </p><p>I thanked him softly and then connected my phone to the battery. It was only a matter of seconds before the screen lid up. I smiled happily, now I could go home safely.</p><p>Spencer had his hands in the air, as if he was under arrest, refusing to touch anything around him. I knew how hard it was for him to touch the floor full of germs, let alone to kneel and contaminate his trousers too. I could see it on his face clear as day, his lips were tense, and his jaw was set.</p><p>"Thank you so, so much," I said graciously while opening my bag. I plucked a few baby wipes and hand sanitizer and passed it to him. "Here, you can use these to clean yourself if you want, just to get you through until you can wash your hands appropriately.</p><p>"Oh, thank you," He said with an excited tone of voice. He used one baby wipe per hand and then added hand sanitizer to both. "You shouldn't be alone this late at night."</p><p>"It's not that late, but it is better to be safe than sorry," I said, pointing my now charging phone.</p><p>"Indeed, did you know that every 98 seconds an American is sexually assaulted? I mean, among other stuff…being alone at night is dangerous for both women and men."</p><p>"Yeah? Like what?” I asked curiously. </p><p>I was one of the people that made those statistics, but I never memorized them. My average brain only kept the highlights, things that shocked me, intrigued me, or caused me nightmares.</p><p>"You want to know more?" he questioned with confusion. “Why?”</p><p>I guess no one actually wanted to hear him rambling about these types of stuff outside his job, but I couldn't blame them. It was not a very appealing topic for anyone who wants a healthy normal life.</p><p>"Sure…besides this History degree, I am actually a Psychologist and work with similar topics. This is my thing," I said, trying to act cool, which Spencer failed to notice.</p><p>His face brightened, and his beautiful hazel eyes shone as a soft smile slowly crept across his face. He grabbed a lock of his hair and pushed it behind his ear and swallowed so hard I could see his Adam's apple move.</p><p>"W— would you like to eat something? I know this Indian place that is open 24 hours, we could, mmmm, talk about statistics if you like…"</p><p>Of course, I wanted to go with him to eat Indian food and talk statistics. I just didn't want him to see how exciting this was for me. He was a mystery to so many people, his reputation preceded him. Even if I thought he was attractive, nothing could ever happen on his end.</p><p>Right?</p><p>"I would like that, yeah…"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 1: Not Worth of Mentioning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hey, Jamie, what time is it?" I asked while taking a freshly baked tray of croissants out of the oven. "I got to be at the new job by 9:30."</p><p>"Then you are already late, sweets." she answered, "it is 8:45, the ride to Quantico is going to be brutal."</p><p>"<em>Frog!</em>" </p><p>I cursed without actually doing it, it was a thing I liked to avoid, in my head it was a way to keep my life a little bit more positive.</p><p>The ride to Quantico was about 45 minutes, which meant I could still be on time. D.C. traffic at that time of the day was the worst, but if I got lucky, I'd be able to make it by the skin on my neck.</p><p>Jamie took the tray out of my hands, then she snapped her fingers in a motherly fashion to hurry me. She was the closest thing I had to a friend since moving here. I met her when I first moved to my apartment, she was my next-door-neighbor. She owned a very picturesque bakery where I liked to relax and unwind. She was just three years older than me, but she acted like those three years were thirty. Ever since we met, she behaved like an older sister, protecting me, and taking care of the things I was not able to finish.</p><p>When I decided to join the FBI a little over almost four years ago, I had to devote my time to the academy. It was going to be a five-month period where I wasn't going to have time to check on my home or my dog, but I trusted her, and she took care of everything I wasn't able to take care of.</p><p>Au contraire to what people used to think, I was not very social. Not because it was in my nature, but because I literally had no time to socialize and with time. I finished my first B.A. at 22, joined the FBI at 23, after the Academy, enrolled in my second degree and worked as an agent simultaneously.</p><p>I had no energy to party, or to date. My life consisted of studying, working, and resting to repeat everything the following day. Therefore, Jamie was the only friend I had, and the only person I trusted in D.C.</p><p>"You've done enough here, Viv, you should really get going. You don't want to give a poor first impression in your new, fancy job."</p><p> "I really don't," I emphasized, taking off the apron I had on. I ran into Jamie's back small office, where I kept my stuff when I swung by. I pulled on a black blazer, over my fancy cherry-colored blouse, grabbed my coat and purse before rushing out. "I'll be home tonight if I'm lucky. Have a nice day."</p><p>Jamie closed the glass door behind me. The bakery was in the corner of a not very busy street, but it was popular enough to get a fair amount of customers per day. </p><p>I jumped into my car, and threw my purse into the back seat. It landed on top of my go-bag I already had in there, causing a few of my things to fall out. I groaned in frustration and checked the time on my phone: 8:50. I was definitely not going to make it on time.</p><p>It had been a while since I had driven all the way to Quantico since my division's office was in downtown D.C. To my surprise, the road wasn't as busy as I remembered from my days at the academy. I still had to step on the accelerator from time to time when I felt like I was not going to make it. Finally, at 9:28, I found myself on the campus' parking lot. I sighed in relief while looking for a parking space. When I finally found one, I turned the car's engine off, took the keys out, and reached for both my go-bag and purse before exiting the vehicle. I started walking towards the Justice building, and then, it hit me.</p><p>This was it, a fresh new start. </p><p>The last two years had been hell at my former job at the forensic psychologist's division. My boss, agent Samuel Carson, was a terrible person, an awful leader, and analyzing statistics had become a tedious job. I was not fighting crime whatsoever, which is what I was really interested in.</p><p>Crimes and victims were only a number when they finally got into my hands, and I felt impotent about it.</p><p>This transfer was what I needed, an opportunity to feel like joining the FBI was actually a good idea. I needed to feel like my hard work was going to pay off, to feel like I was making a difference, it was scary. Everyone on that team was experienced, smart, and strong; only the best minds were able to get a spot in that unit. I got the position because my former boss, the one before agent Carson, thought I had potential. She had left us to join this team, but certain circumstances made her resign her spot temporarily. This meant there was an empty vacant in the group, and she wanted it to be mine. She recommended me to the unit's chief and personally vouched in my name. She had always believed in me, and I was eternally grateful for it.</p><p>After an interview with the unit's chief, promising to read all the manuals, textbooks, and study hard, I was given the chance to fill in for my former boss.</p><p>“<em>This team could use a fresh set of eyes and the perspective of young Agent</em>.” The Unit Chief had told me before sealing the deal.</p><p>I entered the Justice's building elevator and pressed the bright button with the number 6. I sighed out of nervousness and pressed my back against the cold metal wall. The doors opened, letting people in and out on every single floor. When the screen showed we were on the sixth floor, I stepped out. A few meters away, there were two glass doors I had to push with my shoulder since my hands were full carrying my bags and a carton box full of my belongings.</p><p>For a critical unit, everything in the office seemed so calm. A few open desks were located front and center, along with some private offices towards the back. A little kitchen was to the right, connecting to what it seemed like a conference room.  Most of the desks were empty, lacking personal effects such as picture frames, books, or even a plant. I licked my lips, something that I did when I was thinking.</p><p>"Can I help you, ma'am?" </p><p>I turned around and scanned the tall, unfamiliar man that undoubtedly noticed me loitering, lost, and confused like an orphaned fawn in the woods. Immediately I noticed his sharp blue eyes and deduced he was probably in his mid-thirties. He was good looking, with short blonde hair and wore a crisp, black suit with a dark blue tie.</p><p>"yes, please—" I searched for his badge. "—agent Anderson, I'm Vivian Contreras, I'm supposed to start today, here. I'm looking for the unit chief, S.S.A. Emily Prentiss?"</p><p>"Oh, yes, Agent Contreras— S.S.A Prentiss is at a meeting right now, but she gave me instructions for you once you'd arrived. Leave your stuff on one of the desks, and then head to the conference room. The rest of the team is already gathered there."</p><p>So, that was it? She was just going to throw me to the sharks? My stomach turned, and all of a sudden, I felt like I didn't belong there.</p><p>It was not too late to flee.</p><p>"Agent Contreras, are you ok?" Anderson asked, furrowing his brow.</p><p>"Oh, yes… I'm all right." </p><p>I smiled quickly but was unable to hide my nervousness. Anderson started walking towards my designated desk.</p><p>"Everything is going to be fine, you are here for a reason. If they didn't think you are capable of doing this job, they wouldn't have accepted you." He assured me with a tender smile.  "Now, please go to the conference room, the Behavioral Analysis Unit has no time to spare.”</p><p>I nodded with forced assertiveness, yet took my time to set my things on my desk to procrastinate going to the meeting. Agent Anderson noticed and pointed in the direction of the conference room.</p><p>"...that way."</p><p>I could hear a little annoyance in his voice but noticed he was struggling not to make fun of me. I made haste then and headed in the direction he pointed to, swallowing hard as I attempted to stifle my nerves.</p><p>I stood right in the conference room's door frame for longer than necessary. Five people were inside, all seated around the round table in the middle of the room. They were chatting with each other, a few giggles here and there. There was a big screen in the back, I could see the BAU's logo as a screensaver. They looked very close, like friends that were having a good time. I just couldn't find a way to interrupt and introduce myself. I was an outsider, crashing their party. I thought about escaping more times than I liked to admit.</p><p>"Oh, hello there— can we help you?"</p><p>A feminine voice snapped me out of my thoughts. A blonde woman, in her forties, beautiful and fit. Her tone of voice was motherly but had a firm edge.</p><p>Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and looked straight to me. Analyzing me from head to toe, doing what they did best— profiling me. </p><p>And that's when I saw<em> him.</em> </p><p>Spencer turned his chair and stared at me in bewilderment. He definitely did not realize that I was the new recruit meant to start today, and it was apparent that bothered him. I wasn't sure if his profiling skills were failing him, or my mere presence was the problem.</p><p>I knew that I was going to see him in this new job, I knew that he was going from my authority to my equal, but I decided to not think about it. It was only going to make things more awkward. It had been a month or so since the day we had a late dinner at the Indian restaurant, and we had never talked again. I knew this was because we were both busy, and neither of us seemed interested enough to make an effort to keep communicating. He was my teacher, and I respected that, so I didn't push it. I never thought me joining the BAU was going to be such a problem for him.</p><p>And I got all of this by just a simple look on his face.</p><p>"Ah, good morning, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. But, ahem, I'm A—Agent Vivian Contreras. Agent Anderson told me I was supposed to come here...?"</p><p>I mentally slapped myself for exuding more confidence, but truth be told, Dr. Reid's gaze made me feel extremely fidgety. I tried to shake it off to look a little bit more put together. The team stared at me as if they had no clue about what I was talking about.</p><p>"You could say that I'm new. I'm looking for S.S.A Emily Prentiss..."</p><p>They all looked at each other as if to figure out what was going on, or what was the next right move in the situation since they genuinely didn't know who I was. Man, herd mentality was a thing.</p><p>"Oh yeah, Emily mentioned something about a new agent since we’re down two agents" the oldest man in the room said while extending his arm towards me. I didn't hesitate to grab his hand and shake it. "Welcome, kiddo… I'm David Rossi,"</p><p>"No introduction needed, sir, I know exactly who you are,"</p><p>I giggled a little and immediately regretted it. I mentally slapped myself again for sounding like a total creep. He laughed, thankfully, and so did everyone else in the room. Well, except for Spencer Reid. I looked at him for a few seconds, planning on addressing him but got interrupted before I even tried.</p><p>"I'm Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ," added the pretty blonde woman, repeating the old man's action giving me her hand, which I took.</p><p>"Contreras, huh?"</p><p>A brunette tanned man questioned as he placed himself between JJ and I. He scanned me from head to toe before adding anything else. </p><p>"<em>Soy Luke Alvez, ¿de casualidad hablas español</em>?"</p><p>"<em>Claro que sí. Es un placer conocerte</em>." I answered with a broad smile.</p><p>There was something about him that made me feel at home. Maybe it was the fact that he looked Latino, and my parents were Mexican immigrants? Maybe it was his good looks or his warm smile? Perhaps all of the above?</p><p>"Get out of the way newbie, it is my turn to introduce myself to this beautiful creature." The other female in the conference room announced while poking Luke with her elbow. </p><p>She was very colorful, well, her outfit was. I questioned myself why I wasn't able to dress like that, why was she able to pull that outfit off flawlessly? Her spirit was positive and fresh, I could already feel that she was going to be my favorite one to be around. </p><p>"Hello, my name is Penelope Garcia, I'm the guardian of all technological things, the BAU whisperer, and everyone's friend, including you, beautiful creature. Welcome."</p><p>"It is very nice to meet you, Penelope."</p><p>"Oh, and this one here is Dr. Spencer Reid, he isn't usually this quiet, you must have perplexed him," added Rossi while patting Spencer back trying to tease him.</p><p>"We've already met actually," I spat without thinking, "He was one of my lecturers last semester."</p><p>"Really? I wonder why you didn't tell us, Reid?" JJ speculated. </p><p>She was clearly bothered by the fact that he didn't mention me to her. I thought maybe she was her best friend or something similar, but I could tell they were definitely close.</p><p>"I just didn't think it was something worth mentioning," Dr. Reid sentenced, looking directly into my eyes.</p><p>I was confused by his behavior. I couldn't understand why he was hostile towards me. Ideally, I wished him to be happy for me. Realistically, I expected him to be shocked, but not this. His eyes were burning, his muscles were tense, his lips were pressed together in a fine line and the tone of voice he used was dry and piercing. I thought I was the only one who noticed it, but it turns out everyone else did. JJ opened her mouth to say something to him, but she couldn't. Instead, another female voice spoke, interrupting.</p><p>"Oh! I see you guys have introduced yourselves already. Agent Contreras, it is great to have you here with us. I apologize for not being able to welcome you properly, but I had an important meeting this morning that I couldn't skip. " </p><p>Emily Prentiss entered and tossed some files onto the round table at the center of the room. She walked towards me and put her right arm around me in a friendly, warm way. Not going to lie, it took me by surprised and my body flinched at the unexpected contact.</p><p>"I'll like to formally introduce you to the team if you don't mind,"</p><p>I nodded not able to actually find words to answer, and she continued:</p><p>"This is agent Vivian Contreras, she is going to join us for the following months while Dr. Lewis is on assignment and Matt is on his license. She used to work for our very own Tara Lewis at the Forensics Psychologists’ Division. She has a B.A. in Psychology and Cultural History. Even though she hasn't been an agent for long, Tara highly recommended her. I hope that you guys will be welcoming and help her adapt because Lord knows this isn't an easy job. The best we can do is lean on each other, alright?</p><p>"Alright," The rest of the team muttered, nodding in agreeance.</p><p>"Good, then let's get started. Garcia—" </p><p>The agents standing up sat down, except for Penelope, who took a remote control, pressed a button, and made the large screen light up to display three separate pictures of three teenage girls. The only seat available was between Luke and Spencer, which I had no option but to take. My ears burned hot as I slid into my chair, forcing myself not to look in Spencer's direction. His eyes bore into me for a moment before turning his attention to Penelope's presentation.</p><p>Savannah, Georgia. Three missing girls, Lara Johnson, Elizabeth Greene, and the most recent Tiffany Kelly. They were all 17 years old, studied in the same high school, and were seniors. Apart from that, there was no other apparent connection, and all of them went missing in different places. Lara went missing from a parking lot at the local mall, Elizabeth, while taking a walk in a park near her home, and Tiffany from her own house. The strangest thing was that there weren't any signs of a break-in at the latest crime scene. There was no apparent motive and, worse, no clues. The girls went missing within a week each, give or take, and the local authorities were afraid that another girl was going to go missing soon. They needed the BAU's help, and fast.</p><p>"We need to find what's happening to these girls ASAP. Wheels up in 20. I hope you brought that go-bag, Agent Contreras." </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations from the dialogues in Spanish: </p><p>"I'm Luke Alvez, do you speak Spanish by any chance?"<br/>"Of course I do. Pleasure to meet you." I answered with a broad smile.</p><p>Chapter beta'd by: cls2256</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 2: No One is Born Ready to Catch a Serial Killer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was still mesmerized by the BAU's private jet, even after landing in Savannah. It was fancy, clean, and larger than what a 7 member-team would need, not considering Penelope didn't usually travel with the team.</p><p>Prentiss had distributed tasks: JJ and Rossi were supposed to visit the first two abduction sites, Luke and herself were going to the police station to settle down. As for Spencer and me, we were assigned to the last abduction site, Tiffany Kelly's house.</p><p>Prentiss thought that I could bond with Tiffany's little sister, Blaire. I was the youngest member of the team, and this was a strategy to obtain as much information on Tiffany as I could, in case the sister was nervous to talk. She chose Spencer specifically to go with me, knowing he was my former teacher. She knew I trusted him, and that I would listen to whatever he said. Prentiss thought that maybe working with him would make things easier for me in my first case, and she seemed to ignore that Spencer wasn't thrilled about seeing me, much less about working with me. I didn't want to contradict her or complain, at least not during the first case. I didn't really feel that I was in a position to request a different partner.</p><p>There was nothing else but silence in the black SUV Spencer was driving to the Kelly's house. He hadn't said anything since we were left alone, and honestly, I couldn't stand it anymore. Spencer and I didn't really have a close relationship before, but we certainly didn't ignore each other. I would dare to say I was his favorite student, if I had to guess.</p><p>"So, how am I supposed to create a bond with the little sister?"</p><p>"You tell me…"</p><p>"Excuse me?" I looked at him, surprised at his childish behavior. I raised a brow, analyzing him. "Did I do something to you in the past that I am not aware of, Spencer?</p><p>"What?" he asked with confusion in his voice.</p><p>"Are you mad I didn't call after we grabbed dinner that time at the Indian place? Because in that case, I'm sorry, normally guys are the ones who call afterward. You didn't seem too invested, so I didn't want to bother you."</p><p>"What are you talking about? No! I'm not mad about that meaningless dinner." </p><p>Spencer looked at me as if I was totally nuts. Maybe I acted like it, but I couldn't take his cold shoulder anymore.</p><p>"Then I don't understand this," I said with defeat.</p><p>"Neither do I. Why would Prentiss hire you? Just because Tara thinks you have potential?" His voice sounded cold, stiff, and mad. "That's not enough."</p><p>"Maybe she thought that too… but I honestly don't know. I'm thankful for this opportunity, not many 27-years-olds have the chance to be part of the BAU."</p><p>Spencer let a sarcastic laugh escape his lips. "Unbelievable..."</p><p>So that was it, he didn't think I was capable of doing the job because of my age.</p><p>"What?" I snapped.</p><p>Spencer ran his tongue along his teeth as he sighed impatiently. He kept his eyes on the road, deliberately not looking in my direction.</p><p>"Out of everyone, I thought you specifically would understand this," I added, crossing my arms and shuffling in my seat with a huff.</p><p>"Understand what, Miss Contreras?" he replied cooly.</p><p>“It's <em>Agent</em> Contreras, and by <em>this</em>, I mean not being taken seriously because of your age. I'm not even that young—you were only 22 when you joined the BAU! Yes, I'm aware that you are a genius and all that, but ordinary people can accomplish great things if they work their <em>axes off</em>!"</p><p>"You mean, 'asses off,'" he corrected. </p><p>"I said what I said." </p><p>Spencer pulled the car over in front of a big suburban house and shut off the engine. He paused for a moment before speaking.</p><p>"And just to be clear, <em>Agent Contreras</em>, I do take you seriously, but not for this specific job. It doesn't matter how smart you are, how much you know about philosophy, history, or even psychology. I don't care about what Tara or Emily think; you are not ready, and your age has nothing to do with it."</p><p>"Then what does?" I asked, genuinely interested in what he thought about me. "please, enlighten me."</p><p>"You wouldn't understand." he sighed.</p><p>He appeared to be out of patience, so I decided to not push it anymore.</p><p>"Just give me a chance, Spencer. Who realistically was born ready for this job? Catching serial killers? Profiling the worst minds in the USA? I doubt anyone on this team was."</p><p>The last part I spoke in a whisper, but loud enough for Spencer to hear it. I was trying to fight the tears that were approaching; if I cried, then I would be proving his point. The silence in the SUV made it feel like this wasn't a discussion anymore.</p><p>"You know I learn fast. If I make a mistake, let me know. If you think I get in the way more than I help, then when this case is over, talk to Prentiss, let her know how you feel about having me here. Alright?"</p><p>He studied me for a short amount of time as if he was trying to figure out who I was. I would be lying if I said that I didn't think at a certain point that he liked me, as a student, person, maybe even as a friend. We used to talk about philosophers all the time in class, not caring about the rest of the students being lost on what we were saying. We spent hours discussing our favorite theories after lectures. He used to crack jokes that only I could understand, and he didn't care that the rest didn't. I enjoyed hearing him talk and enjoyed listening to his thoughts and feedback on my papers and articles. </p><p>His words weren't the only thing that indicated that he was not indifferent towards me. He used to search the room until he found me, and smiled at me from time to time, initiating contact like a simple handshake or back pat— things that for someone with a fear of germs would avoid.</p><p>In my mind, working with him should have been the coolest things ever, a chance to spend more time with the most fascinating person I've ever met. However, it seemed like his thoughts were the exact opposite, and I just couldn't understand why. I figured that he probably felt uncomfortable with being my peer instead of my superior. However, Spencer's reaction was way more complicated than that. The recent confession of him thinking I wasn't ready to be part of the BAU was heartbreaking and made me feel out of place. I felt disappointed with him and myself.</p><p>"I guess that's fair," he muttered.</p><p>He felt defeated, I could see in his eyes. He wasn't convinced I could do this, but I didn't care. His agreeance to work with me on this case was good enough for the moment. I'd have some more time with him to try to figure out what it was about me being here that bothered him.</p><p>"We should get going," he said, his tone returning to a professional indifference to my presence. "We've been losing our time trying to sort out your issues. Let's go."</p><p>He hopped out of the vehicle, leaving me more annoyed than I was before. I rolled my shoulders and let go of the breath I didn't realize I was holding—I'd stew on his rudeness later.</p><p>I got out of the SUV and walked fast to catch up with him before we reached the entrance to the Kelly's home. I was about to knock the door when it opened to reveal a middle-aged man who I quickly deduced was Tiffany's father. His eyes were red and puffy, just like the rest of his face, like he had been crying. </p><p>Spencer reached for his credentials inside his jacket, and so did I. It felt weird to actually be in the field, to see a victim's parent. I could feel his pain in my veins, but it wasn't professional to address it the way I would typically do. I needed to remember that I was an FBI agent, not just a sympathetic ear.</p><p>"Mr. Kelly, I am Dr. Spencer Reid, and this is Agent Vivian Contreras, we are from the Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI. We would like to ask you some questions about Tiffany, if that's alright."</p><p>During our conversation with the Kelly's, I was genuinely struggling to keep a straight face every time Tiffany's parents broke down. Considering the type of questions we had to ask, this happened often.</p><p>I just couldn't stop thinking about how they were feeling. Home was supposed to be a safe haven, and it wasn't for their daughter. I couldn't pretend that my own feelings were not influenced by theirs— was this was Spencer was talking about when he said I wasn't ready for this?</p><p>Spencer did most of the talking, only letting me participate as little as he could. He was afraid of me making a mistake, I could tell. While he spoke, I scanned what I could see of the house from my seat on the couch, getting as much information as I could from the family's dynamic. I wanted to see who Tiffany was as a daughter, a student, a person— but the house's living room wasn't enough.</p><p>"Mrs. Kelly, do you mind if we take a look at Tiffany's room?" I asked, standing up. </p><p>Tiffany's mom just nodded wearily. I could tell she was tired of everything that was happening, and I couldn't blame her. This had to be the most challenging thing she and her husband had experienced in their entire lives.</p><p>Spencer and I were guided by Mr. Kelly to Tiffany's room, located on the second floor. I passed near the little sister, Blaire's room. The 15-year-old was sitting in the corner of the room, staring intently at her cellphone. She didn't appear as devastated as her parents, but I could sense something was bothering her. </p><p>However, Spencer thought it was a better idea to look at Tiffany's room first, just to get the gist of her before hearing what Blaire had to say.</p><p>Tiffany's room was very girly. It was the type of bedroom I never had growing up. With pink and purple tones everywhere, stuffed animals, flowers, it was almost childish. However, when I dared to look inside the drawer in the nightstand, I found things that were more accurate for a girl her age. Polaroids of her in parties, an agenda that contained her "to-do list" regarding applying to universities and homework, nothing personal, really. There was a phone charger, a cell phone case, and a golden bracelet, which seemed weird since she had a jewelry box on her vanity. This bracelet appeared to be significant enough to keep in a safe place, but for some reason, not enough to wear all the time? </p><p>I walked around and observed the walls. There were no pictures of her friends, just of her as a little girl, or photos of the family. I stood up in front of the closet as Spencer checked everything in Tiffany's school backpack and then her vanity.</p><p>The closet appeared typical, except a high school varsity jacket that seemed to be stuffed in the very back corner, covered with a mass of sweaters and t-shirts.</p><p>"Does Tiffany have a boyfriend?" I asked, taking the jacket out of the closet to examine.</p><p>"The parents said she didn't," He stopped what he was doing and looked at me. "Why?"</p><p>"This." </p><p>I lifted the jacket for him to see. Spencer's eyes scanned it, and then shrugged. </p><p>"It could be hers. Mr. Kelly mentioned she was on the varsity soccer team."</p><p>"No, the lettering on it says football, not soccer," I turned the jacket around to show him the embroidered letters reading 'football' across the back. "Also, Tiffany's entire closet contains small size clothes. This jacket is an extra-large. Taking into consideration girls like their jackets or sweaters oversized, she would've gone for a large at the biggest, not an extra-large. This is definitely a male's jacket," I shrugged, then examined the jacket once more. "My guess is that she has a boyfriend that she doesn't want her parents to know about. <em>This</em> was hiding in the back of the closet. She also had a bracelet in her nightstand separated from the rest of her jewelry. Maybe he gave it to her, but she can't wear without making her parents suspicious?"</p><p>"You got all that from a jacket?" Spencer asked, raising a brow at me.</p><p>"I mean, yes. It could be a friend's as well, but this is something a couple usually does. My high school boyfriend gave me his jacket so everyone could know I was his girl." I said with a subtle smile.</p><p>As I remembered all those fantastic high school days, I could feel Spencer staring at me with confusion.</p><p>"what? You never gave your jacket to a girl you liked in high school?"</p><p> "Not really," he mumbled as an answer, "But I guess it makes sense. I got the vibe Tiffany was hiding something, but I couldn't put my finger on it. We need to talk to her parents again. If this is true, the boyfriend might know something." </p><p>Spencer left everything in its place and started walking towards the door.</p><p>"I'll be there in a minute, I want to take another look at the bracelet," I said.</p><p>Spencer nodded and exited the room. I went back to the nightstand, sat on the bed, and searched for the gold bracelet.</p><p>"Hey…"</p><p>I jumped out of surprise. I thought I was alone, and I was wrong. Tiffany's sister, Blaire, was standing up in the room's entrance.</p><p>"Hey, I'm agent Vivian Contreras, you can call me Viv," I hoped getting on a first name basis with Blaire somehow would make her feel more comfortable. "I'm with the FBI…"</p><p>"I know. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," she said, ambling towards me. "I know you think my sister has a boyfriend."</p><p>"Blaire…if you know something that might help us find your sister, you need to tell us."</p><p>"I know," she said softly "You're right, she has a boyfriend."</p><p>I opened my eyes in surprise, astonished that my guess was actually correct. I wanted to tell Spencer that I was right and that I'm ready after all, but first, I had to finish talking to Blaire.</p><p>"She was hiding it from your parents, right?"</p><p>"Yes. My parents think that we are still little girls. They wouldn't let Tiff have a boyfriend, so she went around them and dated this guy in secret."</p><p>"This guy? You don't know who he is?" I questioned.</p><p>"No! No one actually did, all I knew was that she called him C and that he played football. He gave her his jacket, a bracelet, and a brand new pair of earphones. She hid the relationship from everyone, I think that maybe it was his thing as well."</p><p>"You mean, that he wanted the relationship to be a secret too?"</p><p>Blaire nodded. I sighed and licked my lips, trying to think what that meant.</p><p>"We are going to try to find him, maybe he knows something...Blaire, is there anything else you want to tell me?"</p><p>The girl looked around, she was definitely hiding something. She hesitated a few times before talking.</p><p>"She was not taken from here."</p><p>"What?" Spencer asked, confused as he entered the room, followed by Kelly's parents.</p><p>I looked down, feeling uncomfortable for what was about to happen. Tiffany's parents were about to learn that their daughter had a secret boyfriend and that Blaire knew important information about her disappearance all along.</p><p>"What did you say, Blaire? You know something?" Mr. Kelly questioned urgently.</p><p>"I can believe it! You knew something and hid it! What were you thinking? Are you stupid?!" Mrs. Kelly exploded.</p><p>Spencer tried to calm them down, telling them that this wasn't the time, and Blaire started to cry uneasily.</p><p>"I'm sorry! She asked me not to! This wasn't supposed to happen. She was meant to come back by midnight, but she didn't, and I wasn't awake to notice," Blaire cried. "I didn't tell you about her boyfriend because I knew you would get mad and punish her. If you want to blame someone, blame yourselves, because none of this would've happened if we could trust you!"</p><p>"Blaire…" I mumbled, afraid of not knowing what else to say. She was part right, but I couldn't say that out loud. "It's no one's fault. It doesn't mean that it's right, though. Right now, we need to work together to find your sister," I directed my attention to the Kellys. "—your daughter."</p><p>Mrs. Kelly continued crying and hugging her husband, who looked hurt at his youngest. I understood their anger towards Blaire hiding this valuable information, even though I was kind of angry too.</p><p>Knowing that Tiffany had not been abducted at her house but from a potential public place changed everything. It made it more similar to the other abductions, and potentially easier for us to make a connection between the three. The police had lost time looking at the crime scene where no crime happened, and now there was a potential suspect with this mysterious boyfriend.</p><p>Spencer took Tiffany's parents out of the room to calm them down and to try to explain to them how the investigation would change with this new information. As for me, I stayed talking with Blaire, who didn't know much, just that Tiffany left around 10:00 pm and was meant to meet with "C" near John's diner.</p><p>We wrapped everything up at Kelly's by taking pictures of both the jacket and the bracelet, in case they would help us find the boyfriend. At this point, he may be the only one who had an idea of what could have happened to Tiffany, and hopefully, the other girls.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter beta'd by: cls2256.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 3: Number 57 of the Varsity Football Team</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Savannah’s police station was bigger than I thought, and very well organized. When Spencer and I arrived, an officer showed us the way to the conference room where the team gathered. There was only one cork board with pictures and clues. There wasn’t much information, and that scared me. </p><p>The team had been told about the new information Spencer and I discovered and set to work. JJ and Rossi went to check the new abduction site, but since it was a public space, the scene had been compromised. They returned to the station sooner than expected. </p><p>Luckily, there were security cameras and footage from the date Tiffany went missing. Penelope got to work isolating the security footage while the rest of us brainstormed. I was sitting beside Luke, discussing the boyfriend’s identity. Spencer was working on the geo-profile, and Prentiss was looking over the transcripts of the first interviews with the missing girl's friends. JJ and Rossi interviewed the friends again, this time looking for any sign of the missing girls having a mysterious boyfriend.</p><p>"How are we doing in finding the boyfriend?" Prentiss asked, positioning her hand on my shoulder and looking over it at the iPad with the varsity jacket picture "any ideas?"</p><p>"Not really," I sighed. </p><p>I was starting to feel weak, mainly because I was starving. I hadn't eaten in 9 hours, and even my poor excuse of breakfast had hardly held me over.</p><p>"Vivian and I asked Garcia the obvious 'who was player 57 on the football team'. She told us there was no one with that number on the football team, nor on any other team at that school," Luke said.</p><p>Prentiss nodded her head and scrutinized the photo of the jacket. "Are we sure this jacket is from this specific school?"</p><p>"Yes, it's the Bulldog's jacket, from the girls’ high school. And the colors…"</p><p>I paused, and it hit me. I opened Google on the iPad and searched for the school website. I found the football’s team picture discovering they were wearing different jackets. Same logo, but a slightly different, updated color placement. The varsity jacket we recovered from Tiffany’s house was a jacket from earlier years.</p><p>"These jackets aren't the same." Luke pointed out.</p><p>"No, they're not," I confirmed. "I think this is from a previous year."</p><p>"I’ll call Garcia to check again for number 57 but from previous years," said Prentiss while dialing a number on her cell phone and putting on the speaker.</p><p>"Talk, and you shall be listened to," the feminine voice on the other side of the line answered.</p><p>"Garcia, you are on speaker. We were calling because we want you to look for the number 57 of the football team, but this time, expand your search to five previous years."</p><p>"Oh, okay, wait while I work my magic, please."</p><p>I could hear her typing faster than any other person I had heard before. After a minute or so, the keyboard clicking stopped. </p><p>"Here we go, I found our 57 of last year’s football team. May I present you, Joshua Leandro Wilson, picture and file sent," she said, as our electronic devices rang, letting us know we had a new mail. "He was 57 last year, but this year he changed his number to just 7, that’s why we couldn’t find him. He’s obviously a senior, and he’s the…"</p><p>"Team’s captain?" I asked, at the same time that I looked at the guy’s picture.</p><p>"Yes, how you know sugar?" Penelope questioned.</p><p>"We are looking for someone with “C” as an initial somewhere, maybe that’s it."</p><p>"You are very right, his nickname is ‘Cap’ as in captain."</p><p>"Let me guess…he's the quarterback?"</p><p>"He is."</p><p>Luke and Emily looked at me with a little surprise in their faces. I just smiled a little.</p><p>"This makes him the most popular guy in school, I mean. The quarterback of the football team, which is already the most important sport in this specific school, makes him popular. He is also the captain and good looking."</p><p>"True, and we need to talk to him right now. Garcia, do you have an address?" Luke asked.</p><p>"Of course I do, already sent."</p><p>After that, she hung up.</p><p>"Reid, you are coming with me," Luke stated.</p><p>Spencer left the marker he was using with the geo-profile and followed him out the station, leaving me alone with Prentiss. I put my face in my hands. I was feeling stressed, hungry, and now worried because I had to let Jamie know I was not coming home tonight. I needed her help to take care of my dog, Chamomile, a golden retriever who was my literal best friend.</p><p> </p><p>"How are you doing?" Prentiss asked, sitting beside me. "Come on, I won’t judge, I won’t fire you if you tell me you are overwhelmed," She giggled. "It’s totally normal, you’ll get used to it."</p><p>I sighed, collecting the courage to tell her I was, in fact, overwhelmed, but we were interrupted by JJ and Rossi.</p><p>"Did you find the boyfriend’s identity?" JJ asked, rushing.</p><p>"Yes, Reid and Alvez are going to bring him in for questioning, why?" Prentiss stood up, a look of concern on her face.</p><p>"He may be our unsub," Rossi stated.</p><p>"Excuse me?"</p><p>"We talked to Lara’s and Elizabeth’s best friends again. They both said the girls had mentioned a guy around two weeks before they went missing. They never revealed anything much more than it was supposed to be a secret, and that his nickname was “C.”"</p><p>"Just like with Tiffany…" I mumbled, stating the obvious.</p><p>"So, we asked them if they noticed the girls wearing anything new, you know, since he gave Tiffany gifts…" JJ proceeded. "They said that both Elizabeth and Lara had a new golden bracelet, but when they asked them where or how they got it, none of the girls answered and changed the subject."</p><p>"I can’t believe these girls," Prentiss complained. "Why would they keep this a secret? Their friend is missing, and they don’t think this matters?!"</p><p>"Sisterhood is a very, very powerful thing," I said, shrugging my shoulders.</p><p>"They said they didn’t think it was important since they don’t really know a lot about it," JJ added.</p><p>Rossi looked at the board, then pasted Joshua’s photo on a side along with a “SUSPECT” tag below it.</p><p>"Reid and Alvez better be back with him soon."</p><p>About an hour later, Joshua Wilson was sitting in the metal chair behind a table in the interrogation room. He seemed nervous, young, and hopefully stupid enough to confess. Prentiss decided that it was a good idea for me to perform the interrogation with JJ by my side to guide me through the process. Prentiss did not let anyone complain or say anything regarding her decision, not even Spencer, who appeared very against this.</p><p>A couple of hours went by, and we were finally gaining some clarity. This situation was way more complicated than we had anticipated.</p><p>"Let me get this straight, Joshua. You got an email, an old-fashioned way of communication these days, from a former student encouraging you to date girls in secret. The email instructed you to get them to trust you, use them for make-out sessions, and then stand them up in the middle of the night in random public spaces for money? Money that you claim you needed, but that actually spent on hyper-expensive tech devices, shoes, and illegal alcohol<em>, </em>given you are only 18 years old. Did I miss something?"</p><p>"I don’t think so, miss."</p><p>"It's <em>agent."</em> I said, leaning closer to him, "you do know that these girls went missing in the same place at the same time they were supposed to meet you, but you decided to stand them up, right?"</p><p>Joshua furrowed his brow. "What?"</p><p>"Don’t play dumb, Joshua. They were your 'girlfriends.' They go to your school and are in the same grade. This is far from a coincidence. How did he pay you?"</p><p>“Uh, cash. It was left by the bleachers at school. I’m sorry," he sobbed, his blue iris contrasted with the redness of his sclera. "I cared about them, especially Tiff."</p><p>"That’s why you gave her your jacket?" I questioned, trying to understand him.</p><p>He nodded and began to explain that one morning it started raining, and he covered her with the jacket, and then she kept it. </p><p>"But still, you led her to her kidnapper. Joshua, I highly recommend you get in touch with your attorney, because if something happens to them, you are going to be charged as an accessory. I hope you understand what you did was very, <em>very—</em>" I emphasized. "—wrong."</p><p>I pressed my lips together and nodded to him before leaving the interrogation room. He genuinely looked sad, but he was still guilty of feeding the unsub his victims.</p><p>“Who’s next?” JJ asked behind me. She had been standing laying her back on the wall watching the entire thing as she followed Prentiss’ orders of keeping an eye on me during my first interrogation scenario. “Who’s the next victim, Josh?” </p><p>The guy squinted and gulped, seemingly trying to recall the name of the next victim. His blue eyes met mine before he opened his mouth to answer.</p><p>“Noreen Houston. I’ve been going out with her for a week or so, she’s supposed to be next.”</p><p>“Thank you for your cooperation.” My blonde colleague said with a single nod of her head and left the room followed by me.</p><p>Rossi was waiting for us outside the interrogation room, he greeted me with a warm cup of tea with a splash of milk.</p><p>"You did great, kid," he said, patting my shoulder and escorting me to the conference room where the rest of the time was waiting. "Garcia is already tracking the person who sent Joshua Wilson the emails. She says it’s going to take a while since the IP address is disguised by other servers."</p><p>“Shouldn’t we get Noreen into protective custody just in case?”</p><p>“We should.” Prentiss spoke joining us. “I’ll arrange for local P.D. to get her somewhere safe. Great job everyone.”</p><p>After that, she did as she said and disappeared at Savannah’s P.D. bullpen in order to get someone to follow through with our plans of bringing Noreen to safety. The rest of us went back to the conference room where Spencer and Luke were waiting and throwing ideas back and forth. </p><p>"We should get to the hotel to get some rest," JJ said as we entered the conference room. "Emily is coordinating with the locals to bring Noreen Houston to protective custody, Joshua admitted she was the next victim."</p><p>I looked around the room. Everyone looked tired, not only physically but mentally; I could tell by looking in their eyes. I checked the time, it was past midnight. The center table was full of files, papers, and empty cups of coffee and food containers, pencils, markers, and some evidence pictures. We had spent the whole evening building an incomplete profile and interviewing a scared teenager who was just a patsy, a pawn in a much bigger game. </p><p>We profiled that the unknown subject was a white male in his late twenties and early thirties. We deduced he was not physically attractive or fit, probably lacking social skills and with access to significant sums of money, inherited or from his job. If he had a job, it wasn’t the type of job that required social interaction. We figured maybe not even one that demanded he leaves his house. Due to his abilities to hide his IP address, he probably worked and excelled with computers. Unfortunately, this information didn’t give us a manageable pool of suspects. There were around 100 people in the Savannah area who fit our profile.</p><p>Luke stood up from his chair and grabbed his phone, ready to leave, along with Rossi and Reid. I wanted to stay. I just couldn’t go to the hotel and sleep knowing these girls might be still alive, but suffering. Luke took my arm and pulled me with him, obligating me to follow them outside the station. A few black SUVs were parked out front for us. JJ, Rossi, and Spencer took the first one, leaving the second for Luke and me.</p><p>"We are not functioning well…" Luke mumbled while driving in the dark streets of Savannah. "we are all tired, we can’t think straight anymore, it is crucial for us to rest, Vivian."</p><p>I rested my head on the vehicle’s window, wishing I had superpowers to make everything right and save people in just a matter of seconds, not days.</p><p>"I know what you are thinking. We all felt that way when we first dealt with a field case. You can't solve this case by staying awake all night pouring over evidence and suspect photos," He stated. "We need you rested and your five senses sharp."</p><p>"Yeah, I get it," I said after a moment. "I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to sleep, though," I confessed. "How can you, anyway?"</p><p>He laughed a little, a noise I had not heard in over twelve hours of just looking at sadness, desperation, and pain.</p><p>"You’ll get used to it. Meanwhile, try to drink some tea or some alcohol until you pass out." He joked.</p><p>I laughed. It felt good to feel alive and breathing again, to see things from a happier angle.</p><p>"I’m kidding, we need to be up at 7. Don’t drink till passing out. You’ll be hungover, and Prentiss will kill us." </p><p>Luke and I kept chit-chatting, changing the focus of the conversation to more trivial things, like good clubs, parties, bars, and restaurants in D.C.</p><p>I told him I wasn’t really a “partying” person. He told me he wasn’t either, but that he enjoyed a few drinks with friends at a bar, specifically at Rossi’s place. </p><p>Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at a beautiful hotel. Not very big, but kind of fancy. I grabbed my bag and headed inside the building. While the other members of the team were already there checking in, I couldn’t stop staring at every little detail in the hotel. It was definitely expensive, I could almost smell it. </p><p>"This all comes from the citizens’ taxes?" I whispered into Luke’s ear.</p><p>He laughed and nodded his head, then I realized Spencer heard it too. He was chuckling a little but wasn’t looking directly at me. I smiled, at least he didn’t hate me enough to dismiss my stupid jokes. I took my key-card from the main desk and headed to the elevator, ready to get what I hoped would be a decent night's sleep. </p><p>Little did I know that I was going to be the last time I could doze off at peace.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter was beta'd by: cls2256.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. 4: Everyone Knows What Pinus Taeda Is.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The following morning I woke up to a text from our unit chief that read: “Lobby in 5. We have a breakthrough on the case.”</p><p>I checked the time at the alarm clock in my night stand. It was only six am. I groaned feeling inexplicably tired. As I got dressed I had to repeat myself several times that this was the job I wanted thus it was totally worth the early hours.</p><p>Somehow I managed to drag myself down to the lobby, only to find that I was the last one to arrive. I felt a bit embarrassed for being the one who took longer and probably held back the team.</p><p>“Sorry.” I spit with a grimace on my face. “And good morning.”</p><p>None of them seemed to understand why I was apologizing. Prentiss went on to talk, not letting another second slip by.</p><p>“Garcia let the program that was looking for the IP address from the person Joshua was emailing with run all night. We got a hit and a physical address.” She explained. “JJ, Luke, Rossi, I want you guys to go to the location. The rest of us need to get to the station and prepare for whatever comes our way.”</p><p>It took me longer to process the recently recovered information than the team to walk towards the hotel’s exit. I followed them clumsily and clueless of exactly what was going on.</p><p>If Spencer could read my mind he would be having a blast with how confused, stressed and anxious I felt about barely being awake and already having to deal with serious matters. I could hear his voice in my head saying “<em>this is what I’m talking about when I say you’re not ready, Miss Contreras</em>.” </p><p>When we arrived at the precinct I did what I could do best; go with the flow and mimic what the other two agents were doing. </p><p>We settled in the conference room. I opened some of the files from the day before just to go through everything once again; crime scenes, victimology, and the interview with Joshua. I was so immersed in every document, studying them thoroughly to be as prepared as I could to get on it that I didn’t notice when Luke walked past the conference room with a guy handcuffed. Closely following was Rossi and JJ. The last one stopped at the door frame from the room.</p><p>“Who’s that?” Spencer inquired.</p><p>“That, is Harvey Koch, according to his driver’s license. The computer in his house matches the IP address Penelope found.” The blonde woman informed us. “Garcia should be sending his file any minute now.”</p><p>Just as if Penelope herself could hear us all the way back from Quantico, our devices rang letting us know we had new mail. I tossed some of the files I had over the table to the side and focused solely on my tablet as I dug in the newest recovered information.</p><p>“Well, he fits the profile perfectly;” Prentiss stated, her eyes still pierced on her own screen. “He’s 31, not physically attractive, nor fit. Not social, no friends, no significant other, no family. Works as a tech assistant. However, he lives in a very expensive apartment he couldn’t afford without any other source of money…” </p><p>“I’ll call Penelope, maybe she can find out where that money comes from.” I suggested hurriedly searching for my phone under all the mess of files and papers we had going on over the table. “That’s the kind of thing you call her for, right?” </p><p>“Right.” JJ answered with a single nod and small smile.</p><p>When I finally found my phone, I looked for her contact and remembered Prentiss had sent me all of the team’s contacts but I didn’t have time to add them, I just needed to find that message thread with her and… </p><p>“Garcia? Yes, we need you to find Harvey Koch’s second source of income.”</p><p>Spencer’s voice made me turn to face him. He had his own cell pressed against his ear. I opened my mouth to protest about him encroaching my task nonetheless I was stopped by his brow raising and his lips mouthing ‘<em>You’re slow</em>’, all tied up in the perfect annoyance scowl.</p><p>I turned around trying to see if the other two women noticed that but none of them seem to have. </p><p>“JJ, I want you and Rossi in the interrogation room with Harvey. Alright?”</p><p>The blonde one nodded at our boss and disappeared in the corridors.</p><p>Prentiss pressed her hand on my shoulder softly and used her head to point into the door’s direction. I stood up and followed her. </p><p>“I want you to come with me and watch.” She said as we both walked in the interrogation room’s direction. “Yesterday you did great with Joshua, the thing is Vivian, that Joshua is just a kid. I know you’ve got training in interrogation tactics as we all do, but nothing beats to actually see it happen and experience it firsthand.”</p><p>I had seen it happen. My former boss, Dr. Lewis had shown me tapes of her own interviews and interrogations in an attempt to prepare me for the job I aspired to have. I actually felt like I was progressing and learning when she was in charge, before Agent Carson took over and buried me under thousands of statistics, essays and reports. Furthermore, I actually had never experienced it firsthand, in an ongoing investigation.</p><p>I managed to bob my head letting her know that I was listening to her. Prentiss chuckled and gave me a soft pad on the back. </p><p>We entered an adjacent small area from the interrogation room, this was the other side of the double viewed mirror. Luke was already there watching. His arms crossed over his chest as he paid close attention to what was going inside. </p><p>“Do you recognize who these girls are?” Rossi inquired as he slowly placed pictures of Tiffany, Elizabeth and Lara over the table.</p><p>“No, I don’t.” He answered plainly.</p><p>“What about this guy?” JJ opened up the file she had on her hands and took out Joshua’s photograph. </p><p>Harvey looked down at the pictures and then up to Rossi and JJ, then back to the pictures, then Rossi and JJ over and over again, until he shrugged. </p><p>“Don’t know him.” </p><p>“Mhmm, it is the way you said ‘don’t know him’ after going back and forth with the pictures that makes me certain that you know him.” The blonde pointed out and shrugged. “We traced emails he received inciting him to deceive all of these girls back to your computer. How do you explain that, huh?”</p><p>Harvey was not fit at all, and Savannah was decently warm in weather, but the thick sweat in his forehead had nothing to do with any of those things. He was literally sweating out of nervousness. JJ probably hit the nail. </p><p>Spencer rushed in our direction. His phone still on his hand. </p><p>“Guys, Garcia found a bank account in Barbados at Koch’s name. He’s been getting money from an account in Dublin religiously every first and fifth of the month. Apparently the information on said account is encrypted and she’s working to get through it as we speak, it is going to take a while, though.” </p><p>Prentiss raised her brows and opened her mouth in surprise.</p><p> “An account in Dublin?” She asked herself. “He’s getting money from someone else?”</p><p>“Apparently.” Spencer answered and tugged at his lower lip.</p><p>“This means that Harvey is working for someone else.” I realized with excitement in my voice. </p><p>“It looks like it.” Prentiss pointed at me and shook her head. “Let’s tell JJ and Dave.”</p><p>Luke nodded and got the missing agents out of the interrogation room to join us. Spencer explained to them the developments regarding Harvey’s finances. Once they got a hold of that information, it was as if the sky opened up. I could see in their eyes how excited they were, probably knowing how they were going to use it to their advantage.</p><p>JJ and Rossi went back to the interrogation room.</p><p>“What do you do for a living, Harvey?” Rossi asked, looking at him in the eye, stopping himself from taking a seat.</p><p>“I’m a tech assistant. You know, people call asking why their phones aren’t turning on and stuff.” </p><p>“Oh.” JJ faked amazement, then pursed her lips. “How does a tech assistant afford a luxury apartment downtown and all of that tech equipment we saw in there?” </p><p>“I guess I’m just lucky so many people have no idea of how to use their devices and end up messing them up.”</p><p>“So it doesn’t have anything to do with the astonishing amount of money your account in Barbados is getting from an account in Dublin?” </p><p>And just like that his entire demeanor changed. Up until then he had been behaving confident, or at least he tried to come across as that, except from sweating. As profilers, the team knew better than to believe his false firmness and self-assurance. His body language was a dead giveaway, yet somehow he managed to lose composure even more after Rossi brought up the money accounts. </p><p>“Look Harvey, we are going to find out eventually, either you help us or not. So why not cut to the chase, speed things a bit and talk?” JJ suggested as if it was no big deal. </p><p>The man switched his sight from them to his own cuffed hands over the table. It seemed like he was whispering something, he nodded to himself and finally looked up to the two agents inside the interrogation room with him. </p><p>“Alright, I’ll tell you everything I know, but I’ll need a deal.” </p><p>“What kind of deal?” Rossi demanded to know. </p><p>“Full immunity.” </p><p>“There’s no fucking way we are giving this douchebag immunity.” Luke snapped, making me turn around to face him. </p><p>I wasn’t sure if the walls were thick enough for the people inside the interrogation room not to hear such a loud scream from Luke’s part. I bit my lip in order to contain my laughter.  </p><p>“Maybe we should…” Prentiss mumbled, taking her index finger toward her lips biting her nail. </p><p>“You’re not really considering it. Right, Emily?” Spencer questioned glancing at her.</p><p>“For all we know there might be something bigger going on. I mean we’re talking a lot of money coming from an encrypted account in Dublin…what if Harvey works for someone else and this entire thing is more complex than we originally thought?” I expressed my own thoughts out loud, not really making sense of what I was saying. “Harvey may be our only option to understand what we’re dealing with, <em>fast</em>.” </p><p>“Contreras’s right.” Prentiss spoke.</p><p>“I am?” I said under my breath surprised that my boss was siding with me. “I am.” </p><p>I answered myself feeling slightly more confident than before.</p><p>“Money like that doesn’t come out of a one man operation.” She confirmed.</p><p>JJ and Rossi left the interrogation room to meet with us. Bewilderment owned their visages.</p><p>“Did you hear?” JJ spoke as soon as she spotted us. “What are we going to do?” </p><p>“Vivian here thinks that we should give him the deal.”</p><p>“That was just an opinion, Spencer…” </p><p>“I agree.” Rossi cut me off. “He didn’t recognize the girls when we presented the pictures to him but he knew who Joshua was. There’s no way he abducted them. There must be a third party.”</p><p>“That’s what I noticed too.” Prentiss pointed out. “We’re giving him the deal. I’ll call the judge.”</p><p>Less than half hour later, the deal was granted to Harvey Koch.</p><p>“What part exactly do you play in this operation, Koch?” Prentiss demanded to know.</p><p>She had traded places with Rossi and JJ after she got the deal approved by the judge. Since it was her signature on the deal as well as Harvey’s and the judge’s, she wanted to have a one on one with him.</p><p>So far Harvey had admitted to be part of a trafficking ring that covered all U.S. territory as far as he was concerned. </p><p>“Please, keep in mind that if any of the information turns out to be bogus or doesn’t lead to any arrest deal’s off.”</p><p>Harvey nodded and gulped so hard I could see his Adam’s apple. </p><p>“I’m in ‘merchandise preparation' for the area” He explained and sighed deeply before elaborating. “Meaning I ‘choose’ the victims and make the situation as convenient as possible for the abductor. I don’t have contact with the superiors or anyone from the ring, I just get the money in my Barbados’ account for every abduction I facilitate.”</p><p>From the corner of my eye, I could see Spencer writing something in a small notepad.</p><p>“So what?” Our chief tilted her head analyzing Harvey’s face. “You don’t have the skills or physique to charm beautiful young girls, so you gave up 15% of your payment to Joshua for doing all the work?” </p><p>Obviously, he didn't tell the kid what he was actually doing. He was smart in choosing a young, immature jock to do his bidding. This way, he had no contact with the victims whatsoever. He did not kidnap the girls, he was just sending emails back and forth with a 'friend.' He never imagined that we, the FBI, could catch him. </p><p>Pretty smart in my opinion. The deal he made seemed a bit less risky considering what we knew now and that he was probably still going to get away with his deeds anyway. </p><p>“Well, yes.” Harvey admitted and clicked his tongue. “It was still good money for little to no effort.” </p><p>“What happens after the abduction takes place?” </p><p>“I’m not entirely sure but I’ve heard that they take the girls into a safe-house for shipment.”</p><p>“Any idea of where that is?”</p><p>“No, I’m sorry. They don’t tell me more than I need to know.” </p><p>When Prentiss stood up and left the interrogation room, we followed her back to the conference room. It was time to rethink and regroup. Penelope was included too, via phone call.</p><p>“Alright, so what do we got?” Our boss invited us to theorize.</p><p>“Well, apparently like in any organization there are levels” Spencer pointed out as he re-wrote what was in his notepad onto a big white board. “First it was Joshua, a level that wasn’t supposed to exist. Then there’s Harvey, he’s ‘merchandising preparation’ he lures girls and makes sure they’re sitting ducks. Above him, is the abductor; he is the one who takes the risks and actually kidnaps the girls. We need to assume that there’s at least one more level on top of him.”</p><p>“Harvey said the abductor takes them to a safe-house before shipping them.” Luke pointed out. “The abductor needs to be the connection to the bigger ranks and he knows where the safe-house is.”</p><p>“Exactly.” Spencer complied and pointed at Luke with the marker he used. “If we find the abductor we find the safe-house and possibly the person in charge of the operation.” </p><p>“Fine, but how do we find the abductor?” JJ threw in the air and scrounged before taking a seat. “Harvey says he doesn’t have any contact with him.” </p><p>“And he’s telling the truth my mighty crime fighters.” Penelope talked for the first time through the speaker phone. “Harvey sends specifics, date and location of abductions through a very secured chat room in the deep, deep, deep web, no one ever answers.”</p><p>We all stood there in silence. Trying to figure out how to get the abductor. He was the key element in the investigation, the missing piece of the puzzle in order to get the girls back. But how?</p><p>I couldn’t help but to scratch my eyebrow out of nervousness. </p><p>Then it hit me.</p><p>“What about Noreen Houston?”</p><p>“Who?” Spencer asked genuinely intrigued with what I was about to say.</p><p>“Oh, she was supposed to be victim number 4 according to Joshua Wilson.” JJ explained. “We have her in protective custody.”</p><p>“What about her, then?” Rossi inquired, placing his fist under his chin.</p><p>“What if we use her as bait to get the abductor? Lure him out and catch him in the act.” I suggested. “Penelope…” </p><p>“Yes, sweetheart?”</p><p>I smiled softly at her pet name. I got the vibe she was just as nice and kind with everyone but still, I felt a bit special whenever she came up with a new cute way to address me. It made me feel more welcomed.</p><p>“Is there any way to know if Harvey made plans about Noreen’s abduction?”</p><p>“There is, give me a sec. This is going to get tough. Most of this was encrypted as well and now I’m recovering bits and pieces little by little…”  She kept talking over her rushed and angry sounding typing. “Here, yes! Noreen Houston was scheduled for tonight, apparently.”</p><p>“That means we have a shot.” I exclaimed getting excited by the second about being helpful and working decently.</p><p>“That is only if they don’t know that Harvey’s been taken into custody.” Prentiss pointed out. “I’ll talk to him.”</p><p>She disappeared for a few minutes and came back with a small grin on her face. Apparently no one could know that Harvey was arrested since they didn’t do check ins, being too risky to do so.</p><p>After an hour of convincing Noreen’s parents and explaining to them the plan thoroughly, they finally accepted. Noreen had been onboard from the moment the idea was presented, she wanted to help those girls no matter what, and her parents on the other hand were worried about losing the most precious thing they had. Both sides were fair to me. Ultimately, they saw how going through with it could possibly save the lives of several women and gave in.</p><p>That night, another guy was brought in. Videl Franco, the abductor. He fell right into the trap the team staged. </p><p>He was a tough one to crack— nothing left his mouth regarding the girls’ whereabouts or who he worked for despite Rossi's attempts and efforts.</p><p>Time was of the essence as there was a huge possibility that the people in charge of the ring already knew we were coming, since Videl was not going to show up with Noreen that night. As soon as they realized that something was off with the operation, they were probably going to dispose of the girls before we got to them.</p><p>“So what’s the strategy here?” I asked as stomach burnt with frustration with every tic toc from the clock and we had nothing to go with. “How do we get him to talk?”</p><p>No. There was no way my first case on the BAU was going to end in tragedy. I joined to save lives not to see them disappear forever.</p><p>“Maybe we don’t need to.”  </p><p>For the first time during the entire case, Spencer’s voice was like music to my ears. I didn’t care if he was right and I was wrong, all I could think about were the girls.</p><p>Everyone turned to face him as they always did whenever he spoke, because of course, who wouldn’t pay attention to Doctor Spencer Reid?</p><p>He entered the conference room grabbing a small evidence bag with what it looked like some sort of grass inside </p><p>“Forensics found these when they processed Videl’s vehicle.”</p><p>“Weeds.” JJ said, choking out laughter. “What about those?”</p><p>“These aren’t weeds, JJ.” He answered with annoyance in his voice. “These are pine needles. More accurately from a Pinus taeda.”</p><p>The tall slender guy watched us expectantly as if the rest of us would immediately catch up with what he was trying to tell us. I had no idea about trees, flowers or plants in general. My scene was more about the cultural aspects. But hey, that’s what the team’s for. And I couldn’t be gladder about having the smartest man I knew on our side. </p><p>“Loblolly Pine?” Rossi raised a brow.</p><p>Well, at least one of us was following. </p><p>“Precisely!” Spencer shouted and pointed at the older agent. “Loblolly pines are very common in the area but they flourish even more in river bottoms and abandoned farmland. The texture and scent of these needles indicate that the tree they’re from is in great conditions, obviously considering the aspect of…” </p><p>“Reid!” Luke called him out as soon as he detected our dear genius was about to ramble. “Let’s get Garcia on the phone.”</p><p>I padded the pockets of my jacket until I found my phone. Browsed through my newly added contacts and dialed Penelope Garcia’s number. </p><p>“Right.” He apologized immediately causing him to acquire a subtle pinkish tone in his cheeks. “I’ll call…” </p><p>Spencer stopped himself from continuing when he saw I had my cell pressed against my left ear. I couldn’t help but to grin and mouth a ‘<em>You’re slow</em>’.</p><p>It was probably not a good idea to mess with him, however at the moment it felt like it was the right thing to do.</p><p>He clenched his jaw, squinted and tilted his head. I could hear the gears of his brain working for a comeback all the way from where I was standing. </p><p>“Hey, you’re calling!” The bubbly voice of Penelope reached my ears as well as everyone else’s on the team due to the call being on speaker. </p><p>“Hi Penelope, this is Vivian Contreras…” </p><p>“Oh I know who you are. This is your first time you call from your phone. So exciting! If you need something, anything, you know the drill, just say the words and I’ll, <em>puff</em>, make it happen.”</p><p>“Garcia, are there any abandoned farms in the area? Focus on the ones near bodies of water.”</p><p>“Dr. Reid, huh.” The girl at the other side of the line gasped. “Vivian, just one favor, please let me know when I’m on speaker because sometimes my brain to mouth filter is broken and all hell breaks…” </p><p>“Garcia!” Prentiss called her out. Her tone was stern yet it didn’t feel overbearing.</p><p>“On it, on it.”</p><p>Even through her chit chatting, the sound of her digits hitting the keyboard trying to come up with something of help using the parameters Spencer gave her was the loudest sound of all. </p><p>“Alrighty, here we go.” She announced with a happy undertone. “Four properties, do you have anything else I can use to narrow it down?” </p><p>“Don’t think so.” Rossi answered confidently. “That should be it.” </p><p>“As you wish. I’m sending locations and pictures right now. Be careful, whatever you do.” </p><p>And with that, our technical analyst hung up. Several beeping noises announced that we all were receiving the new information.</p><p>Rossi took his tablet and rushed himself toward the interrogation room where we had Videl Franco in custody. </p><p>I had a slim idea of what he was going to do, but I wanted to be sure and actually witness it with my own eyes. I assumed he was going to show Videl the pictures of the locations Penelope found and read his micro-expressions to get an answer without him actually having to talk. </p><p>I fled the conference room following Rossi, Luke went along with me as well. We both stood on the window side of the double-end mirror, carefully watching.</p><p>The veteran agent didn’t even bother to sit down. He just placed the tablet over the metal table right in front of Videl. </p><p>“Where are Lana, Elizabeth and Tiffany?” </p><p>The cuffed man didn’t look down to the tablet presented at him.</p><p>“Look at them!”</p><p>Rossi slammed the table making all of us flinch. A few nervous chuckles left both Luke’s and my lips as we regained composure.</p><p>Luckily, Videl also lost his confidence and finally peeked at the tablet.</p><p>“Here?”</p><p>Nothing. Rossi swiped the picture.  “What about here?”</p><p>Once more, nothing. He changed the picture yet again. This time, not even a word needed to come out of Rossi’s mouth for Videl to fidget a bit on his seat. His breathing got slightly heavier.</p><p>“I’m not telling.” Videl spoke for the first time.</p><p>“You already have.” Rossi said proudly with a cocky smirk.</p><p>He receded grabbing the tablet and left the interrogation room directly back to where the rest of the team was to let them know we had an address. </p><p>“So now we…”</p><p>“We go get them.” Luke completed my sentence before pressing my shoulders with both his hands in a friendly way. “Come on, let’s gear up.” </p><p>“Gear up?” </p><p>“Well yeah. Grab ammo for that pretty gun of yours, bulletproof vest, earpieces, flashlights…”</p><p>The big grin on his face and the amusement tone he used made me realize of how dumb I sound when I asked that.</p><p>“What? Did you think that was only a prop?”</p><p>Luke pointed to my hip holster using his chin. By that point he was almost pushing me in the team’s direction. I looked down to my gun, and froze inside. I was fully aware that being on the field meant that I was going to face precarious situations and that I was required to carry a gun, nonetheless, it felt surreal to actually be using it somewhere other than the shooting range and the tactics training modules.</p><p>“<em>Duckcrab</em>.” I murmured under my breath. </p><p>“What?” Luke asked even more amused than before. “<em>Duckcrab</em>?”</p><p>“Oh I don’t curse.”</p><p>“Why not?” He asked genuinely curiously.</p><p>I turned around making sense of where I was; some sort of locker room where my teammates were now getting ready for the big rescue mission. Everyone seemed to be minding their own business so no one heard what Luke and I were talking about.</p><p>He handed me a bulletproof vest with big white letters across the chest that read ‘FBI’.</p><p>I tried to put it on, notwithstanding I was so overwhelmed by what was about to go down that I couldn’t even do that right. </p><p>What if kept acting like these while being out there? What if I messed everything up?</p><p>“Lemme guess.” He continued, his fingers placed on the straps on my vest as he tightened them. He must’ve noticed my dismay. “Your parents didn’t allow you, didn’t they?” </p><p>My jaw dropped a few centimeters amazed on how fast he got it right.</p><p>“You seem like a family girl. Y’know?” Luke raised his brows teasingly, he then handed me an earpiece. “Low key rich, definitely popular at school, suburban life all the way…how am I doing?” </p><p>“I didn’t live in the suburbs.” I shrugged, placing the earpiece where it should be. “My town didn’t have suburbs, it was rather small.”</p><p>“So you agree with the rest?” </p><p>“Kinda.” I gave in. “Please don’t tell anyone about why I don’t curse.” </p><p>Luke adjusted his own vest and earpiece, he cracked a laugh and turned to face me.</p><p> “Alright, fine. I won’t.” He promised, crossing his heart. “Did I succeed, though?”</p><p>“At what?”</p><p> “Distracting you.”</p><p>A small beam showed in my visage. He did. For a second there I completely overlooked that I was getting ready for my first raid ever.</p><p>I opened my mouth to respond but another voice cut me before I could even say something.</p><p>“We need to go. Prentiss assigned me to you, Contreras. Let’s move it.”</p><p> Luke and I placed our sights on Spencer who was staring at us with his brows raised at the door frame.</p><p>“Let’s get back those girls.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, hi!<br/>It means a lot to me that someone is taking the time to read my stuff.<br/>I just wanted to thank you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. 5: The Truck that Caught on Fire.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A couple of minutes later, I was clinging to my bullet-proof vest while trying to keep my lunch inside of me, thanks to Luke’s fast and very reckless driving.</p><p>There was no time for making a plan, coming up with a strategy, or calculating the variables. If we were going to save those girls, it was the only time.</p><p>“Don’t be nervous,” I heard Spencer say in the backseat. He was holding on to the handle over the window. “Luke is actually a pretty good driver, unlike me.”</p><p>I smiled a little appreciative of him trying to distract me from what was about to go down. We were going into the wolf’s mouth blinded, having no idea how many of them were, or how badly armed they were.</p><p>“Just focus on finding the girls, Vivian, that’s what Prentiss wants us to do.” he added calmly. “They will take care of the rest, and I will have your back. Promise.”</p><p>I looked at him through the rear-view window. He nodded reassuringly, for which I returned. Spencer and I maybe had not been on our best behavior during the whole investigation. Our relationship was not the best, but a little effort on both our parts was required to avoid a hostile environment. Especially on times like this.</p><p>“Well, Viv,” Luke said, pulling over next to a small patch of trees. “This is it.”</p><p> I sighed and scratched my left eyebrow out of nervousness. We all left the vehicle and walked towards the big warehouse ahead of us. We were in the middle of nowhere— the perfect place to run a human trafficking ring. And just as Spencer said, there were dozens of Loblolly pines around the property that once was a farm.</p><p> The rest of the team and the SWAT unit arrived just moments after us, and made their way to the back of the building. I could hear everyone’s voice through my earpiece, but couldn't actually make out what they were saying. I don’t know how it happened or where it came from, but all of a sudden, everyone was shooting. People were running to the woods and disappearing in the shadows. The SWAT unit took off into the woods, chasing after whoever had started shooting at us.</p><p> “I can’t see the girls,” I cried in the middle of the chaos. “Can anyone see them?”</p><p> “Negative.” a voice replied in my earpiece.</p><p> I started to feel desperate as I looked around, panicking. Over the gunfire, I heard a loud engine start. My attention was called to a truck around the back of the building. </p><p> That had to be it, the girls had to be in there.</p><p> I ran full speed towards the truck, dodging bullets and not even thinking twice about separating myself from the team.</p><p> “Vivian!” </p><p> I heard a voice calling my name from behind me, but that did not stop me. I barreled toward the truck, gun in hand, and ready to shoot if necessary.</p><p> “Freeze!” I screamed as I jumped in front of the truck. The driver looked at me, but instead of surrendering, he started to accelerate. “<em>Frog.</em>” I demi-cursed.</p><p>I shot at the driver, but only shattered the windshield. The truck continued toward me, gaining speed rapidly. I heard another shot from behind me, this time killing the driver. I moved from the truck’s path, shielding my eyes as it slammed right into a large tree, crumping the front end.</p><p> My heart pounded in my chest as adrenaline was rushing through my veins. I was struggling to catch my breath, fighting my nerves that weren't allowing me to steady myself. I looked around but couldn’t see who fired the second shot, the shot that saved my life.</p><p> “Everything's under control here.” I heard Luke saying over the earpiece.</p><p>“We’re clear here too,” JJ added.</p><p> “Are you <em>insane?!</em>”</p><p> That last voice was not coming from the earpiece, bur from behind me instead. I turned around and met Spencer’s angry eyes.</p><p> “He was definitely going to run over you, <em>Vivian.”</em></p><p> “I had it under control, alright? But thanks, though, for having my back.” </p><p> I said this over my shoulder as I jogged to the recently crashed truck, trying to dismiss the tone he used when he said my name. I had more important things to focus on currently.</p><p> “Spencer, come here! There are people inside!”</p><p> I could hear screams coming from inside the back compartment, screams that sounded like girls. The truck engine had sparked and caught on fire. This wasn't good.</p><p> “It’s okay, we’re going to get you out of here!" I called. </p><p> I tried opening it, but wasn’t successful. </p><p> “Reid!” I called out for Spencer over my shoulder before speaking into my earpiece. “This is Agent Contreras, I’m south from the warehouse's main entrance, there has been a car crash, and the vehicle is on fire. I need medics and firemen— <em>Reid!”</em></p><p>Spencer rushed up to my side and tried to open the door, but failed as well. The handle was stuck.</p><p>“We both need to pull. Try to do it downwards, due to the placement. If we apply a good amount of force, we may be able to get the whole door off,” </p><p> I nodded several times impatiently; I just wanted to get the girls out.  </p><p>“Alright, let’s do this, Vivian…<em>one, two, three!</em>”</p><p> I don’t know where I got the strength to pull the door off, but after a few tries, we managed to dislocate it. Inside there were nearly 15 girls, sweating, panting, crying, scared. I sighed in relief, looking at two out of three familiar faces; Lara and Elizabeth.</p><p>“is everyone alright?” Spencer asked, moving aside to let the girls abandon the burning truck. “Is anyone hurt?”</p><p>“She is,” a voice said, pointing at an eleven-year-old. She had been the closest to the cabin, thus to the impact, she was unconscious, I thought, “She’s not waking up.” </p><p> “its okay sweetheart, we’ll help her.” </p><p> The girls filed out of the truck quickly, the last one was Tiffany Kelly. She grabbed my arm, sobbing.</p><p> “You can’t leave her there! Help her, please!” </p><p> She pointed to the young girl lying on the floor of the truck. She stumbled, starting to faint from what I assumed was a mixture of heat exhaustion and smoke inhalation.</p><p> “You need to take the girls away from here, Contreras, this truck may explode soon,” Spencer said urgently.</p><p> “We can’t leave that girl behind, Reid…”</p><p> “I know,” he interrupted. “I’ll get her. I’ll meet you at the barn.”</p><p> “Spencer…”</p><p> “Vivian, just go. I am right behind you.”</p><p> I felt an empty space form in my stomach. I did not want to leave Spencer behind. I couldn’t stand the idea of losing him over this, with us being on bad terms…but it was our job after all. He nodded at me, and so did I, sealing our deal.</p><p> “Come on, girls, we have to go. Go!” </p><p> I pointed to JJ, who was running towards us. The girls who were able to run, ran to reach JJ, but a few had started to pass out from smoke inhalation. JJ instructed the girls to keep going, to run to the barn where Luke, Rossi, and Prentiss were. She ran to my side, helping me support the weaker girls to guide them to safety.</p><p> “Where is Spencer?” JJ demanded.</p><p> “He said he was right behind me...” </p><p> My voice began to shake, and my eyes started to water, though I wasn’t sure if it was a result of the smoke or the thought of not seeing Spencer again. </p><p> “He’s not,” she said uneasily, looking behind us. “You left him?”</p><p>She stared at me, her eyes were raging, and I just wanted to disappear. Are we supposed to stick together all the time? I had been taught at the Academy about some situations where we shouldn’t. </p><p>She stopped walking, I did too. I wanted to explain to her about the little girl being hurt and unconscious, but she was not there to hear excuses. </p><p> “I told her to.”</p><p> I turned around, facing Spencer carrying the little girl in a bridal-fashion. His face was full of black ashes, and he was sweating. I could tell that that girl was the maximum amount of weight he could carry. </p><p> JJ sighed in relief and hugged him for a brief second. I sighed, feeling like a ton of bricks were lifted off my shoulders. Thank God he was alright.</p><p> “She needs a medic,<em> now</em>.” </p><p> Spencer picked up the pace, hurtling towards our rendevous point where we were met by the SWAT unit, local police, medics, and parents of the missing girls.</p><p> The little girl was taken away in an ambulance. The medics said she had hit her head at the impact, but thought she was going to be okay.</p><p> Spencer now sat on the edge of an ambulance with an oxygen mask, taking in deep breaths. I leaned on one of the SUV’s hoods, looking at every family reunion I could watch. This was exactly what I needed after the rush of emotions and adrenaline that almost cost me mine and Spencer's life.</p><p>My heart melted. I felt great, invincible, useful, and strong. I also felt like I could use a cold shower, a pizza, and a Netflix marathon with my dog to relax. </p><p> I looked up and saw JJ walking in my direction. “I’m sorry...” she whispered.</p><p>“No. I am,” I apologized, “I knew I wasn’t supposed to leave him, but…”</p><p> “I know. The girls needed you. What you did was correct,” she stated. “But it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt, even after all these years, leaving one of us behind is…painful,”</p><p> Her eyes were on a seven-year-old, hugging her mom for the first time in what it seemed forever.</p><p> “Look at that,” she pointed with her chin and then smiled, “isn’t that beautiful?”</p><p> “It is everything I wanted, JJ,” I confessed. </p><p>JJ turned to me and smiled, she put her hand on my shoulder tenderly.</p><p> “Enjoy it. You did this.”</p><p>She left and headed over to check on Spencer. I was planning on thanking him later for everything he did for me. However, for now, I just wanted to enjoy this happy ending. All the bad guys were caught, and all the girls were recovered safe and sound. My eyes were watery, but this time I knew exactly why.</p><p>
  <em>This.</em>
</p><p>This was what I was living for. This is why I chose to join the FBI, why I decided to devote my life to justice.</p><p> “Are you Agent Vivian Contreras?” A female but unknown voice asked. </p><p> I turned to the girl and immediately recognized her—it was Tiffany Kelly. I nodded and extended my hand to shake hers.</p><p> “My sister and parents just told me you helped finding me, <em>us</em>. And I am really thankful for what you did back there with the truck.”</p><p> I felt a lump in my throat, I was about to cry, and she was too. She rejected my hand and instead decided to hug me. I hugged her back, fighting the tears that threaten to cover my cheeks anytime soon. </p><p>“Thank you, Agent Contreras,” she said when she finally let go.</p><p> “Vivian, please. And you are very much welcome, Tiffany.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter beta'd by: cls2256</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. 6: Paperwork Isn’t Due Until Monday.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The mood in the BAU’s jet on our way back to D.C. was much lighter than the flight to Savannah. A little over half of the team was asleep, leaving Prentiss and I awake.</p><p>I was alone trying to start my paperwork on the case, I couldn’t afford to waste time. When I got back home, I needed to take care of things at my university regarding my bachelor, and then run some errands for my house, so I really wanted to finish this report before we landed. </p><p>I took a sip of my milky coffee and proceed to fill in my report, trying not to yawn out of hunger, and tiredness.</p><p>“Maybe you should be sleeping too, paperwork isn’t due until Monday.”</p><p>I looked up and met Prentiss sitting down in front of me. She smiled at me, just as everyone consistently did in an attempt to make me feel comfortable and welcome. Now that our case was over, I actually had the headspace to think about my feelings. The team was excellent, everyone was welcoming, charming, and even understanding when I made a mistake. They looked like a close-knit team, so close, I was actually surprised by how fast they let me in. </p><p>I had a particular affinity toward Luke. He was the newest member of the team before me, so I knew he was familiar with feeling like an outsider. I'd spent the majority of my time over the last few days with him, as well, so I felt like I knew him better than the others. Emily Prentiss was an incredible boss, one of the best out of all the jobs I'd had. She was approachable, personable— almost like she forgot that she was in charge. She gave the impression that she worked with the team, rather than just managed the team.</p><p>“I can’t,” I answered, unfortunately interrupted by my own yawn. </p><p>I was tired, but I did not understand why. It was past noon, and I had slept nearly 10 hours last night. Maybe it was psychological, from the overexertion of adrenaline the day before.</p><p>“Ah, that yawn says otherwise," Prentiss chuckled.</p><p>“I mean, I have to get ahead with this as much as possible while I can," I explained. "I have a lot to do back in D.C.”</p><p>“Oh yeah, I heard about your graduation…you can’t put that much pressure over your shoulders, Contreras," She spoke to me with a mothering tone, but not one that was nagging. "If you think this job is too much, or that it interferes with your other responsibilities, I completely will understand.”</p><p>“I can do this Prentiss, I was able to juggle with responsibilities before," I smiled, shrugging my shoulders. "I’m an excellent juggler.”</p><p>The corners of Prentiss's mouth upturned, and her facial expression matched her previous mothering tone. “The forensic psychologist's division is not the same as the BAU.”</p><p>“I know that," I said quickly, "but I think I can handle it. I’m just trying to use this idle time productively."</p><p>“I understand that,” she answered, nodding. "Is it a bad moment to ask about how you felt on the field?”</p><p>“No, no, now is fine," I set my pen down and leaned back in my chair. "It was... different.” I finally said, almost questioning my choice of words. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong, and I’m sorry about what happened yesterday.”</p><p>Prentiss furrowed her brow in confusion. "Sorry for what?”</p><p>“You know, for Dr. Reid being almost burned to death in that truck,”<br/>
I mumbled, trying not to let my emotions get the best of me. “Agent Jareau was pretty upset about it.”</p><p>I'd replayed the scenario over and over in my head, wondering what I could've done differently. Spencer told me to go, so I was just following orders... or so I thought I was. I didn't exactly have the training on what to do in that situation. It didn’t matter how many training simulations I had aced, reality would always find a way to throw me off. </p><p>“Reid and JJ are pretty close, and sometimes that overcomes them at the field,” she stated diplomatically. “What you did was protocol. Staying with him would have put your life at risk as well, we would’ve lost two agents instead of one. Fortunately, you are both okay.”</p><p>“I’m trying to convince myself that it was the right thing…even though Dr. Reid hasn’t been the most welcoming since I joined the team. I still appreciate him a lot as a teacher," </p><p>I took a breath, mentally kicking myself that I was allowing myself to start to get worked up. My eyes were stinging with the threat of tears, but I knew I couldn't let myself to appear weak in front of my boss. </p><p>"I would not have forgiven myself if something happened to him because of my irresponsibility and lack of knowledge.”</p><p>I shifted in my seat uncomfortably as I grabbed the cup of coffee beside my report and took another sip. I was more than aware that Prentiss was studying every movement I made. I knew from Luke that it was a team’s rule to not profile the members. However, it seemed like none of them could help it; it was their nature.</p><p>“He hasn’t been welcoming?”</p><p>“No, not really,” I responded, shrugging my shoulders “I guess he was not very happy about me joining the BAU.”</p><p>Prentiss exhaled, leaning back in her seat. “Geez, I sensed something was off, but I just thought he was maybe scared, not angry about you joining the team.”</p><p>“Scared?” I asked as I took another sip of my coffee.</p><p>“Yeah…he is very apprehensive and protective with the people he cares about, but as you know, he is not very good at expressing those feelings. I figured he might be kind of worried about you facing daily danger abruptly. After all, he was your teacher, he is your teammate, and he cares about you.”</p><p>I scrunched my face in confusion. “He does?”</p><p>Prentiss laughed but stopped when she realized I wasn’t laughing too. She cleared her throat and proceeded while putting a strand of her hair back in her ear.</p><p>“You are clueless, Contreras, aren’t you?”</p><p>"um..." </p><p>I didn't quite understand what she meant, and I certainly didn't find whatever she was talking about amusing. I looked at Spencer over Prentiss's shoulder. He was sleeping on the couch, using his bag as a pillow, despite there being pillows right there. He seemed so calm and peaceful.</p><p>“Well, you have to figure that one out yourself. Let’s just say everyone cares about each other in this team. We are like family, we look after each other all the time. That’s why we are still alive and sane,” She explained to me while extending her hand to touch mine. </p><p>Despite her mothering tone, her touch did not feel as motherly as JJ’s, but it was calming and reassuring. </p><p>“Well, I know you have plenty of things to do when we get home, but we were going to grab some drinks tonight. We would love for you to join us. It will be a great opportunity to actually get to know the team without any stress or pressure in the middle," She said, smiling easily. "It will be fun, promise," she added.</p><p>“I’ll think about it," I said, smiling back. "Thank you, Prentiss.”</p><p>“Thank you, Agent Contreras," Prentiss stood, leaving me to finish my report. She turned her head to speak to me one last time over her shoulder. "You did a great job these past few days, you really surpassed the expectations. Lewis was right about you.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter beta'd by: cls2256</p><p>Hello!<br/>I wanted to thank everyone who is reading this thing I wrote, haha.<br/>I would really like to read your thoughts on the fic so far. Thank you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. 7: I do Have a Gun, You Know?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I looked at myself in my full body mirror behind my bedroom door. I didn't know what was an appropriate outfit to get 'some drinks' with my teammates. I had on a pair of dark jeans, paired with a black silky spaghetti strap blouse and a knitted mustard cardigan. This was my regular casual wear, and I hoped it was enough for O’Keef's bar. I slipped on a pair of high heeled booties, that instantly made me feel a little more dressed up.</p><p>“How do I look, Chamomile?” I asked my dog, who was lying on my bed, his head over his front paws watching my every move. “Pretty good, huh?”</p><p>Obviously, the dog did not answer. I finished up my makeup by adding a little bit of highlighter on the bridge of my nose. I was going for that bronzy look that blended easily with my cinnamon-toned skin. My wavy brunette hair fell past my shoulders, frizzing slightly at the ends, but there was not a lot for me to do to control it. I had given up trying to fight my natural texture once I got into college.</p><p>I sat on the edge of my bed and petted my dog’s head tenderly, I definitely had missed him. The last days had been the most intense 4 days of my entire life, and I hadn’t been able to relieve my stress by petting and hugging him like I usual. I didn't like the idea of leaving him so often, but this new job was demanding, and I had no choice but to. I knew he was safe and well taken care of with Jamie, but still, I felt irresponsible. I could not understand how did Luke manage to leave Roxy, or worse, how JJ leave her sons.</p><p>I stood up, finally convincing myself that going out to get some drinks was a good idea. This was a one-of-a-kind opportunity to bond with the team. Even though my to-do list was swamped, I had to add this to the top. </p><p>I grabbed all my essentials, like my car keys, my wallet, and my phone. I stuffed them in a black purse and left my apartment, but not without saying goodbye to Chamomile and assuring him that I was going to be back soon.</p><p>I drove for almost twenty minutes before arriving at the bar where we were meant to meet. When I entered, I heard Penelope’s voice immediately calling my name.</p><p>“Vivian! Darling, you're here, you came!” She cried excitedly. </p><p>I giggled a little when I realized she was a bit tipsy. </p><p>“I told you she doesn’t think that we are too old and boring for her to hang with us, right?”</p><p>I dodged some people along the way over to our table. Once I arrived, Penelope hugged me so tight I was about to run out of air. We had not been acquainted enough with each other for her to have that type of confidence with me, but I did not care, she was very sweet.</p><p> ...and very drunk.</p><p>“Of course not, Penelope, you are a timeless soul,” I responded by hugging her back for a few seconds until she separated.</p><p>“Let’s do some shots!” She cried, clapping her hands together.</p><p>Everyone refused, but she did not care and left rapidly moving towards the bartender, followed by JJ, who saluted me before going after her.<br/>
Everyone looked different outside the office with casual clothing, they looked like actual people, not federal agents who often save the world quietly. It was like a superhero’s alter ego, and these guys had one too.</p><p>“Can I get you something to drink, Contreras? ¿Un tequila, Cerveza?” Luke asked while putting his arm around my shoulders, “¿O eres más de cócteles dulces?”</p><p>“I’ll just have a beer, please. I’m not in a mood to get drunk whatsoever. I haven’t been in that mood since high school.” I joked.</p><p>Prentiss, Luke, Rossi, and even Spencer laughed. Luke left the table to head to the bar, and I sat on the available stool between Spencer and Prentiss.</p><p>“I’m sorry I’m late; I had to deal with some stuff.”</p><p>“It’s okay kid, we’re sorry you have to see Penelope in this state." Rossi stated, shaking his head in disapproval, “She gets over-excited when we solve a major case like this, or when we have a new member in the team, imagine both.”</p><p>I giggled and nodded, agreeing. We chatted for a few more minutes before Luke, Penelope and JJ returned, every one of them carrying several beverages in small cups, but no beer to be seen.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop her from buying these” JJ apologized. “now we can’t waste them…”</p><p>They left the cups over the table, 7 of them, one for each one of us. Everyone grabbed one, except for me. I grimaced, I had not taken a shot in a while and to be honest, I was not sure I could handle it like I used to. I noticed that even Spencer had a cup in his hands, I could not be the only one who was not going to take it. I exhaled, picking up the shot glass nervously. </p><p>“To our newest member, Vivian Contreras,” Penelope said, almost screaming, making some of the people near us turn their heads, which made me blush a little. </p><p>I mouthed a “thank you” to her before taking the drink, realizing this was way worse than tequila, it was pure vodka. I couldn’t help but make a face. I had not felt my throat burn like that in years. Luke noticed and laughed, drawing attention and earning me some friendly heckling from the rest of the team. I knew that they thought I was a 'partying person' or guessed I was because of my age, but it was the total opposite. I really hadn't had time for all that once I set off for college.</p><p>The next hour we spent talking about different things, switching from topic to topic like any normal social situation. I did not understand how they managed to be so ordinary and talk about such trivial matters. I figured since we were the only ones who could relate to each other about how difficult our jobs were, that we would mostly discuss those sorts of things. I figured maybe nothing bothered them about the job anymore, or they wanted a distraction. Perhaps they needed to see each other as simple humans and friends, instead of cold profilers and federal agents who had seen the most outrageous, horrible things.</p><p>“Ohmygosh! I love this song! come with me, Em, let’s go dance!” Penelope said, dragging Prentiss onto the dance floor by her wrist. “JJ! Come on!”</p><p>“I’ll go,” JJ groaned, giving the rest of us a “save me” look.</p><p>“JJ!" Penelope hollered once more, "You know you can’t resist Milli Vanilli, Come here!"</p><p>I laughed as I watched Penelope, Prentiss, and JJ dance, thinking about how silly they looked. Despite that, I couldn't help but sing along to the song.</p><p>“Aren’t you going to join them?” Rossi asked, “It seems like you are a fan of Milli Vanilli as well.”</p><p>I shook my head. “No, not really, my mom liked them a lot back in the ’80s."</p><p>“Your mom…” Luke chuckled, “you make me feel old. How old are you again?”</p><p>I smiled sheepishly. “How old do you think I am?” I asked daringly.</p><p>“She was born in 1991, which makes her 27,” Spencer mumbled before giving his beer a si. I stared at him, slightly confused, just like everyone else at the table. “it's in your file, obviously.”</p><p>“And you read it because…?”</p><p>“I read everyone’s files when they join the BAU.,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders.</p><p>Luke, Rossi, and I stared at him in silence, trying to figure out what to respond to his statement. I found it odd that he read my file, but I decided I had no right to judge. He probably felt like I was a liar by hiding to him that I was a federal agent while he was my teacher, and wanted to know what else I lied about. The environment was getting a little weird and tense when Rossi spoke up.</p><p>“Well, that is my queue to leave.” </p><p>Rossi said while standing up and taking his coat, he took his wallet and left a $50 bill on the table “I have to wake up early tomorrow, Krystall wants me to take breakfast with her at 9:00am.”</p><p>“Krystall?” I asked, moving my brows up and down teasingly.</p><p>“Indeed, ex-wife number three.” </p><p>He explained using his fingers before leaning to give me a kiss on the cheek as a sign of goodbye, very Italian, very Latino. He then left, but not before waving the girls dancing goodbye.</p><p>The three of us remaining, Luke, Spencer, and I struggled a little to converse again. Luke took his glass and downed its entirety in one gulp, obtaining an excuse to head to the bar, leaving Spencer and me behind. Little did I know I would end up sitting with my teacher at a bar, watching our teammates, including our boss, dance to some 80’s jams while being a little bit tipsy.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said, finally breaking up the silence. “I was a little bit of a jerk with you in the last few days.”</p><p>“A little bit?”</p><p>This came out without me thinking. I didn't mean to sound snarky, but I couldn't help it. Spencer scratched the back of his head awkwardly.</p><p>“I tried to be professional, but it's hard with you around. I'm not great at controlling my emotions…you must’ve figured that out by now.”</p><p>I looked directly into his hazel eyes. He was not entirely sober, but he was definitely not wasted like Penelope. I was confused, I did not understand what he meant, but I didn't want to ask. I was too afraid of hearing what he wanted to say.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I was impulsive and put your life at risk last night…”</p><p>I wasn't sure if right now was the proper time to apologize, but I didn't know what else to say.</p><p>“It's okay, Vivian, you did what you had to do," he said, waving a hand to dismiss my apology. "You were great, you know that, right?”</p><p>“I was aware it was a good outcome, but…”</p><p>“Of course you know it, everyone has told you that you were great. Besides me, well, until now." He said with a soft smile on his face, he observed me for a few seconds before turning his sight on to his friends dancing to Pump up the Jam, another 80’s song.</p><p>“Not bad for “not being ready,” huh?” I teased, giving him a slight poke with my elbow.</p><p>Spencer shook his head in denial, his brown locks bounced a little in action, he let a short laugh leave his lips before turning to me with disbelief in his eyes.</p><p>“You still don’t get it, do you?”</p><p>I shook my head slightly, he sighed and pressed his lips onto a fine line.</p><p> “You are brilliant. You seem to learn fast, and you give 110% effort at everything you do. Of course, you would excel at profiling, and you did. But…”</p><p>“But what, Spencer? Tell me. These past few days have been exhausting, and I’m really tired of trying to guess what’s wrong with me."</p><p>“Nothing’s wrong with you, Vivian, that’s the thing! Your life has been perfect, you have everything you want. You have never experienced pain, and you have never lost anyone. You are an idealist, you think that this world is fair, that there’s justice all the time, that good always beats evil, but turns out that outcomes like yesterday’s are one in almost a thousand. You…you do not understand how losing feels because you have always been a winner.”</p><p>I opened and closed my mouth a few times before finding the words to speak. I felt angry at his words, and I didn't understand where this was coming from. I wouldn't stand for him thinking he knew me, because he didn't. Not even a bit.</p><p>“What’s wrong with being a winner?” I asked, fighting anger in my tone.</p><p>“There’s nothing wrong with that, there’s nothing wrong with being like you, but you are truly not aware of what awaits you by working in the BAU, Vivian. You’re the type of person who is better left inside their bubble. There’s no doubt you are going to lose someone or something here, and there’s no need to."</p><p>Spencer seemed frustrated, but his frustration didn't appear to be directed entirely at me, which confused me even further.</p><p>“I— I just want to make this world…”</p><p>“A better place” he interrupted me “I know, I’ve read your essays, remember? I know your life’s philosophy. I’m telling you because I care. You need to quit now. You have a pure soul, a beautiful mind, and a big heart, there’s no need to break it or to contaminate it, and this job does that. You’re not like Luke, or Rossi, JJ, Penelope, Prentiss or me…we are all broken Vivian, don’t do that to yourself.”</p><p>I was about to storm on him. I was shaking, I was so mad. He was saying I was too naïve to work at the BAU, that my life had been too happy for me to work there. That I was too good for it. The truth was that I was fully aware that most of the time, I was going to lose. People were going to die in front of me, and that I was going to feel impotent eventually. Still, I made a choice to stay, and this was not going to change my mind.</p><p>“I’m just trying to protect you, Viv.” he admitted, “Because it’s going to hurt, and it is going to change you…you are going to lose yourself little by little until there’s nothing left. You do not deserve that kind of pain. I reacted the way I did when I saw you at the office because I refused to believe you were doing this to yourself…and yes, I was mad at you for lying and not telling me who you really were.”</p><p>“I see…” I whispered.</p><p>After a moment, I turned to look at him, offering a soft smile. I placed my hand over his, feeling him trying to pull away for a few seconds before giving in. </p><p>“And now that we’re talking, I get that this has been a misunderstanding. I appreciate your concern, Spencer, but I made my decision. I want to do this, and I’m not losing myself over it.”</p><p>Spencer grimaced and nodded, defeated. I could see in his eyes he was not pleased with the outcome of the conversation, but I was not going to quit over what he had to say. It was an excellent opportunity for me to feel useful for my career at the Bureau. It was sweet that he worried, but still…not enough.</p><p>“I guess I just wasted my breath over this” he looked at me, his big hazel eyes trying to scan my face for any micro-expressions of doubt. “You’re a hard nut to crack, but you are right, it’s your choice. I just wish you’d understand where I’m coming from.” </p><p>“I do now, I understand you were mean to me to scare me away from the job, and that you were mad because of my choice, Spencer. You have looked after me ever since I entered your classroom…is only natural you feel you have to do the same here, but you don’t, I can take care of myself, I do have a gun, you know?” I joked, smiling a little. he let a laugh escape too, “and the will to fight for justice and happiness.” I added.</p><p>He laughed even harder, I did too. His eyes stretched so much when he laughed, making them almost disappear. Although I was actually serious. I wanted to contribute to making Earth a better place.</p><p>“Fine, I promise I’m done trying to convince you to quit. And I will also start to treat you like a colleague, not a defenseless little girl. I will behave like I normally do, but promise me you will stay yourself forever.”</p><p>“I promise,” I answered. “you too.”</p><p>“I’m way past that,” Spencer added, grabbing his beer and lifting it a little “To being ourselves.”</p><p>I mirrored his motions of a toast, smiling warmly at him.</p><p>“And to happily ever afters.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter beta'd by: cls2256</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. 8: Ten Dozen Chocolate Chip Cookies.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Three months passed since the conclusion of my first case. The team had grown to feel like family to me. Luke definitely became my best friend on the BAU, I told him essentially everything that was going on in my head and in my life. Although Jamie was still my closest friend in DC, I could tell Luke stuff that I couldn’t tell anyone else. Stuff from work, from the cases, the victims, the killers— things civilians could find sensitivity and/or gory. </p><p>Penelope was also a good friend. She tried to set me up with every decent looking guy she knew and cheered me up when things went wrong in the field, which was pretty often. Prentiss was a terrific boss, Rossi was the grandpa who couldn’t help but spoil his grandchildren, JJ was comprehensive and willing to help at all times, Spencer, well… Spencer was just Spencer, eager to teach and share his knowledge, awkward, sweet, and driven, and I was a mess. Not a constant mess, only this specific day.</p><p>“Hey, Anderson, good morning,” I said, stopping in the hallway on my way to Penelope’s office. “Want a dozen chocolate chip cookies?”</p><p>I took a bag out of the box I was carrying, full of similar containers, each one filled with a dozen chocolate chip cookies. </p><p>“Ah…yeah, sure,” Anderson answered. “How much do I owe you?"</p><p>“Owe me? Oh, God, no, it’s a gift. I baked too many cookies last night, so I’m giving them away before I eat them all.”</p><p> I smiled at him, warmly looking into his eyes. He returned a smile too.</p><p>“Oh, well, thanks, Contreras…”</p><p>“Where are my cookies?!” Penelope screamed as she walked towards us, leaving her office behind. “Oh hi, Agent Anderson, you got your cookies before I did.”</p><p>I laughed as I took another bag of cookies out of the box for Penelope. Anderson bid us farewell and walked off in the opposite direction that Penelope was now dragging me off toward. She wrapped her arm around my shoulders and squeezed tight, giving a wide smile.</p><p>“You just made a woman very, very,” she emphasized, “—happy. Homemade cookies are the best.”</p><p>I giggled a little and pushed through a set of glass doors with my free hand while Penelope started to ramble about cookies and their impact in her life. I would typically listen to her, even if what she said made zero sense, but today was different. My mind was somewhere else. </p><p>I was distracted by the most stupid thing ever. I couldn’t say anything without sounding childish or girly— not that there was something wrong with being girly, but this wasn't me.</p><p>I ditched my box at my desk, tossing cookie bags my colleagues that were sitting calmly in their seats. The three of them caught them as if I were throwing baseballs to them. </p><p>“What is this?” JJ asked me, analyzing the bag I just gave her.</p><p>“chocolate chip cookies. I hope you enjoy them.” </p><p>I sat down hard in my chair, letting all the air from my lungs leave my body. I rubbed my hands on my face carelessly, thanks to the fact I was not wearing any makeup.</p><p>“You look awful,” Spencer said plainly.</p><p>I sighed contemptuously at him. “Thanks, Spencer, that’s great.”</p><p>“Sorry… I just…” he stuttered. “—you don’t look good.”</p><p>I laughed sardonically as I rubbed my eyes once more. “I didn’t sleep last night, so instead, I baked 10 dozen chocolate chip cookies. Cut me some slack, would you?”</p><p>JJ, Luke, Penelope, and Spencer stared at me. I had never talked to them in any rude manner whatsoever, and even though this wasn’t exactly rude, it was not happy, positive me. Our unit’s chief door opened before I could justify myself anymore.</p><p>“Guys, we’ve got a case,” Prentiss announced and walked towards the briefing room.</p><p>Rossi’s door opened too and followed her. Everyone else except Luke left following the boss to get informed about the new case. I stood up from my chair and grabbed two bags of cookies for my missing teammates.</p><p>“Nice t-shirt, Viv.” He said, pointing at my Alf themed shirt with his chin.<br/>
I covered it buttoning the black blazer I had on.</p><p>“Yeah, whatever. I was wearing this yesterday when I arrived at Jamie's bakery, and I did not go home…I was planning to change it from something in my go-bag, but it seems we have a case, so…”</p><p>“Hey, I am not judging. It is, in fact, kinda cool.” He assured me with a soft smile. I walked towards him, putting my head in his chest, letting him hug me for a few seconds “We can talk if you want.”</p><p>“I…”</p><p>“Guys," Prentiss ordered from the corner of the briefing room’s door. "We really need to start.” </p><p>“Later, maybe," I said, giving Luke a friendly smile. "We should go now. Duty calls.”</p><p>I sat in my regular seat between Luke and Spencer. I fidgeted with the cookie bags while Prentiss debriefed us about the new case. I was so absent-minded that I couldn’t retain any more information than the absolutely necessary.</p><p>“Wheels up in 30.”</p><p>“Where to?” I whispered to Luke, hoping no one heard.</p><p>“West Des Moines, Iowa,” Spencer answered. </p><p>I looked at him and nodded in response, he did the same. AS the team started evacuating the room, I held out my remaining cookie bags to Prentiss and Rossi.</p><p>“Cookies? Just a little token of my appreciation, and a bit of anxious baking.”</p><p>Prentiss giggled as she accepted the bag of treats. “Anxious baking, eh?” she asked with a small smile.</p><p>“Yes, and since chocolate chip cookies are the only thing I know how to bake, so I went a little overboard. So... enjoy! See you on the plane."</p><p>With that being said, I turned around to leave the room. However, I was able to feel their confused stares.</p><p>The whole flight to West Des Moines was a blur. I could hear people talking, but I couldn’t shut off my thoughts about what was bothering me. I constantly felt Spencer’s stares, and JJ’s stares at him, followed by a confused stare courtesy of Luke at the “stare chain.” When we arrived at the West Des Moines police station, I pushed myself out of my head. I could not let personal, childish issues get in the way of my work and saving people. </p><p>I focused on the case and only on the case to the point that I began to avoid small talk. I usually loved chit-chatting on assignment, because the small talk was the only thing that made me feel human when I was surrounded by death and pain. </p><p>Days went by, and the case was going as good as it could, the team was on its way to arrest the suspect. I stayed behind, claiming to feel ill. The real reason was between those lines, I was afraid I was too distracted to go on the field and blow everything off.</p><p>“Everything okay?” Luke asked, sitting by my side.</p><p>I thought I was alone in the conference room that was assigned to the BAU to work the case.</p><p>“Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be with the rest?”</p><p>“Prentiss asked me to stay to look after you.”</p><p>“I don’t need a babysitter nor a nurse, Luke, I am not actually ill.”</p><p>“You don’t say,” He added sarcastically with goofy eyes. “Do I need to remind you that you are surrounded by the best people regarding detecting lies and odd behavior? You are not fooling anyone with your ‘I just want to work the case’ attitude. What’s going on?”</p><p>“It is idiotic, trust me.”</p><p>“It can’t be idiotic if it is getting this much into your head,” He shrugged his shoulders. “I am just saying that something is really bugging you, and everyone can see it. Anxious baking 10 dozen cookies, not sleeping, avoiding small talk, eye contact, oh, and let’s not forget the fact that all you care about is working a case, but you chose not to make the big arrest.”</p><p>I sighed heavily. “I am not good at hiding my feelings.”</p><p>“Obviously not,” He pointed out with a soft giggle. “We have been giving you some space to handle whatever is bothering you your own way, but Viv, it doesn’t have to be that way if you don’t want. You can talk to us, or just me, if you’d like that better.”</p><p>“geez…you’d be a good dad someday, Alvez” I joked and laughed a little, he gave me a light bump with his shoulder in response “Don’t laugh and don’t tease me or I will end you. All right?”</p><p>"I promise," he said warmly.</p><p>“Well, I don’t tell this to a lot of people because it is not generally relevant and due to safety issues, you know… I’ve heard that you can make a lot of enemies in this line of work…but I have friends, like actual friends.” I emphasized, “Real friends. Not the kind of friends you have because you work together and see each other at least 12 hours a day, 6 days a week.”</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>“I mean, it is great that we are friends but we really only know each other superficially, just the tip of the iceberg, we know the “work” us, not actually us. They are not the friends you have because you live in the same building as Jamie. These are the kind of friends you make at age 6 in the park and grow together in a little Florida town. They are the kind of friends who you share your ‘first time’ of almost everything with.”</p><p>“Okay, I get it, you have amazing besties that you’ve known forever, what’s wrong with it?”</p><p>“We were like the gang in That 70’s Show or even the actual show Friends. We were inseparable until we graduated high school, and we were on our own separate ways. Henry went to Germany, Francis to Canada, Polly moved to L.A., my boyfriend Oscar got a spot in a big football team in Texas, and my best friend Addison made her dream come true by entering Milan's Polytechnic.”</p><p>I sighed, remembering how hard it was for all of us to leave everything behind and start all over wherever we went to. How hard was it to not be able to look for comfort in them, and just being able to chat from time to time when our schedules somehow matched. How hard it was to be single after being in a relationship for four years. I could see Luke getting impatient by the second, I knew I was explaining a lot, but it was necessary, so he could understand my concern, what bugged me.</p><p>“I’m getting there, I promise. The thing is that life naturally went on. Everyone became winners in every single aspect of their lives.” </p><p>Luke stared at me, I sensed that he already understood how I felt. </p><p>“Let me tell you how amazing they are. Henry, he got a scholarship at the Munich University, he became an astrophysical engineer, NASA offered him a job. He was able to refuse it because he was already working for a cutting edge technology company owned by the father of his gorgeous German fiancée. Then there’s Francis, he has a steady job, a wife, two kids, and a beautiful enormous suburban house. He is the CEO of a coffee machine company, he could retire tomorrow and still be able to afford the lifestyle they have right now. Polly went to UCLA, studied nutrition and physiotherapy, she is well-known stars’ trainer, she has her own training DVD being sold at Target, oh and she’s totally dating Alex Pettyfer.”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“Just google him,” I said, astonished he didn’t know Alex Pettyfer. “And as for Oscar, well, he is just Oscar O’Malley.”</p><p>“Oscar O’Malley as in the best running back of the Houston Texans?”</p><p>“You do know your football, never thought you were that guy.” I laughed.</p><p>“You dated Oscar O’Malley?”</p><p>“Knew him since we were 8, started dating at 14, and broke up at 18 when he moved to Texas. Now he is dating one of those girly girls, blonde, Instagram models. Everyone is successful, rich, and in love. Except for Addison and me, not that she wasn’t successful, she got her dream job at an architecture firm in Milan, got a loft, lived with her cat, similar to me. We were the only ones single, the only ones who hadn’t succeeded in that part of life, you know?”</p><p>I could already feel the wave of ‘dating is nothing, having a boyfriend or getting married doesn’t define if you are successful or not’ ready to burst from Luke, but I didn’t let him.</p><p>“4 days ago, the day of the cookies, Addie facetimed me, which was weird because normally we don’t have time to do that, so I assumed it was important.”</p><p>“Was it?”</p><p>“hell yeah, she called to announce that she was engaged to a guy she met two months ago, they are getting married next spring, and she wants me to be her maid of honor.”</p><p>“Is that bad?”</p><p>“Have you listened to anything I said? It's not! And that is the problem. I am now the only loser who doesn’t have a formal relationship, God! I don’t even have dates! And you can’t tell me that not dating is a sacrifice I make to be successful at my job, because that is a fat lie, you and I both know it.”</p><p>“Viv…”</p><p>“I know, I told you it was stupid, childish, and selfish, I can’t help but feel that being left behind. I feel like I am losing them, that they are too busy now to deal with me. I'm an almost thirty-year-old who lives alone in a small apartment with her dog, doesn’t make a ton of money, doesn’t go on dates, just graduated of the university, oh, and analyses the minds of some creeps for a living.”</p><p>“You just described all of our lives…”</p><p>“Not true…”</p><p>“Let me finish,” Luke interrupted with a severe tone “all of our lives when we were your age. You just graduated from college because this is your second BA. You are a federal agent working in the most prestigious unit in the bureau. How many years have you been an agent?”</p><p>”Around 2 and a half…3 counting the Academy.” I shrugged sheepishly.</p><p>“See? You’ve been in the FBI for almost 3 years, and you are already a profiler. You know how long it took me to get in the BAU? Around 12 years. And Tara, your mentor? She joined after working 14 years in the forensics psychologist department. JJ had to be the unit’s liaison for more than 7 years before she was even considered to become a profiler.” He explained, looking me dead in the eye. </p><p>He smiled softly and cleared his throat “let’s not forget Emily Prentiss, our chief. it took her 10 years to be accepted, years she spent building an impressive resume and going undercover into precarious situations just to be noticed.” He sighed, “And last but not least, it took David Rossi and Jason Gideon more than 10 years to make the idea of profiling, and a unit specialized on it truly.”</p><p>“But Spencer and Penelope…”</p><p>“Reid’s IQ is 187, he’s literally a genius. Penelope was a bad guy who the bureau was so afraid of, that had to hire her.” Luke shrugged his shoulders as if to minimize their achievements. “You can’t compare yourself to others, Vivian. Everyone has their own timing, and you are doing great with yours. You are successful. When you reach my age, I can guarantee that you are going to be chief, or even higher than that.” He comforted me by taking me into his arms in a tender hug, “And love life-wise…I don’t really know what to tell you, this job makes it hard to date. The only one with a stable love life is JJ, so you should ask her.”</p><p>I stayed in his arms for a couple more seconds before daring to talk after all that lecture from his side.</p><p>“That’s the point.” I said, separating myself from him a few centimeters, “I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to wake up in 40 years, surrounded by solitude. I want to love and be loved, Luke. Being an agent made it hard, but the BAU makes it impossible; normal people get scared when you mention your job, people willing to date you are either weirdos or other agents, police officers, or doctors, so naturally, there’s no time for the relationship…it makes me question whether it is worth it or not. Whether my life is going in the direction, I wanted it to go.”</p><p>“I know that sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, but we are making a difference every single time we analyze some creep’s minds…”</p><p>“Are we really?” I could feel Luke’s look of confusion, trying to figure me out. “Because sometimes it feels that we just say that because we are too afraid to admit that our lives are a mess, that we aren’t successful in the most human aspect of our lives; feeling.”</p><p>He stared at me, then looked at the floor in silence. Oh no, I probably got into his head as well. About a minute went by, and Luke wasn’t answering.</p><p>“It’s just a thought. No need to take it seriously. Maybe all of this is in my head, a product of my jealousy.” I rushed to explain to myself, “you know, my best friend’s getting married…”</p><p>“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe you just externalized what is going on in everyone’s mind.” </p><p>I waited a moment before speaking, wondering how to phrase my next sentence sensitively. “Have you ever wondered if being here is the right choice?”</p><p>“Plenty of times, but ultimately felt that it was selfish to think like that; after all, there are lives on the line.”</p><p>“Do you think the rest of the team has felt that way too?”</p><p>“You bet your ass they have.”</p><p>We both laughed a little and then increase until it became peals of laughter filling the now-empty conference room where we had worked for four days straight in the case. I realized we were laughing at our cowardice, our insecurities, and at the non-existent but somehow in force pact of ignoring them. Also, I realized that this feeling was something everyone at the BAU always dealt with.</p><p>Maybe this was what Spencer meant. I was so sure that being in the BAU was what I wanted when I first joined, but now, every single little thing made it hard. We lost more than one. And I was starting to feel hopeless and bothered all the time. My personal life was non-existent, all because I wanted to be successful in my choice of work. When I looked at my high school friends, I saw what I wanted for me. I wanted a perfect job, a perfect family, perfect life. The thought of not living to the expectations or being left behind was scary. I realized just how truly alone I was.</p><p>I was too weak and naïve, I could not ignore that feeling of anguish like they did. I was afraid and worried, and I couldn’t hide it, but I couldn’t let it control my life either anymore. I needed to learn how to swallow it, and by doing that, a piece of me was going to vanish as well. It wasn’t very “me” to ignore my feelings, or to stop worrying about love or stop being empathetic and a dreamer. Still, it had to be done if I wanted to be a profiler and save lives.</p><p>Just like Spencer said.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter beta'd by: cls2256</p><p>Thanks for reading!<br/>If you can/want, leave a comment!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. 9: The Unexpected Contagiousness of a Gag Reflex</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was truly overwhelmed but was too proud to admit it aloud. I was always tired and volatile. I struggled very hard with being myself during the most stressful moments of the week, which was regularly. Fortunately, it hadn’t been enough for me to have another anxious cooking session or life crisis. I was juggling with every single aspect of my life, but I was alive and going hard. I wondered if I would ever feel in balance or not. I was slowly accepting that I had my own plans, and if they looked vastly different from my friends’ plans, it was okay. But dating…freaking dating...</p><p>It was a complete mess.</p><p>I crashed into the glass doors on the sixth floor of the building I worked in. My vision was still a little bit blurry and dark…so dark. Must’ve been the sunglasses I forgot I was wearing.</p><p>“Let me help” Rossi talked almost too loud for my ears. He opened the door for me, letting me go first.</p><p>“Thanks, Dave,” I answered by dragging my words a little.</p><p>The office was deserted. How couldn’t it be? It was 5:30 on a Sunday. A day and a time, no one is supposed to go to work. I forced myself into the kitchen, there was no coffee already made. I put the pot on and sat at the little table in front of it.</p><p>“You’ll never get your coffee like that, Contreras,” Rossi added with a mix of amusement and concern. “You didn’t press the button. Are you okay?”</p><p>“Wonderfully, aye.” I answered without even letting myself think first, “It’s too early, and yesterday was Saturday, so…”</p><p>“Oh…I get what you are saying. Had fun, at least?”</p><p>“I honestly don’t know…”</p><p>“What don’t you know?” Luke asked, entering the floor, he looked fresh and was carrying a thermos with what I hoped was coffee.</p><p>“Not a word.” I threatened the veteran agent in front of me, “please.”</p><p>Rossi laughed and pretended to close a zipper in his mouth.</p><p>“Not a word. Sorry, Alvez.”</p><p>That being said, Rossi disappeared into the briefing room.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Can you stop screaming and give me your coffee? That dumb machine is taking forever to make some.”</p><p>“I am not screaming…” </p><p>Luke stared at me for a few seconds and opened his mouth in realization. </p><p>“Wait for a second, have you been drinking, Vivian?”</p><p>“What? No!” </p><p>I denied standing up, pretending to be offended. It almost fell due to the rapidness of my actions, so I sat again. </p><p>“Maybe a little, but that is because I went out yesterday. It was Saturday, I was allowed to drink as much as I wanted to because we weren’t supposed to be here two hours later on a Sunday.”</p><p>“Did you drink water and take a cold shower?"</p><p>“Yes, I even slept a little, but you really have no idea how bad it was a couple hours ago…. This is nothing, my friend. At least now I am aware of what I am doing…kind of.” I stuttered and spaced for a few seconds, “You need to help me, please. I told Rossi already, and I don’t think it was a good idea since he is my boss.”</p><p>Luke cracked, laughing, making fun of me. I wasn’t laughing because I was conscious enough to notice the terrible position I was in. I never went out, I had not partied in years, and the night I decided to enjoy myself, I had to report to work. Oh, the irony of it all. Luke gave me his coffee and fixed the collar of the blazer I threw on me on my way out of my apartment. Prentiss arrived, followed by JJ and Spencer, who went directly inside the briefing room. Luke and I spared a few seconds so I could put myself together before presenting myself to the rest of the time. Somehow I managed to stand up, keeping my balance to walk on a straight line and sit down in my usual spot, between Alvez and Reid.</p><p>“<em>Jesus, superstar!</em> The lights are so <em>frisbee</em> shining Beyoncé could give a concert here.”</p><p>“You are wearing sunglasses…”</p><p>“You are very observant, doctor.” I answered Spencer by remarking the word ‘doctor.’ “You should get another Ph.D. for that observation, don’t you think guys?”</p><p>“Viv…” Luke mumbled, trying to calm me down.</p><p>“Sorry…I am not totally up yet.” I apologized as I collocated my elbows on the table and used my hands as a support for my chin. “Where’s Penelope anyway? If she doesn’t show up, imma be mad.”</p><p>“She should be here any minute, Vivian.” Prentiss answered, “Oh, there she is…”</p><p>“I am sorry, I was…” </p><p>Penelope began to explain but stopped, thanks to God. She looked as bad as I looked, and that made me weirdly happy; after all, she was the one who got me drunk in the first place.</p><p>“No time for that story, so I am just going to…”</p><p>Penelope was interrupted by some gag reflex, which forced her to leave the room in search of a bathroom. I almost had it too but was able to control it by burying my face in my hands. Prentiss sighed and took control of what Penelope commonly used to present the cases and started showing the emergency case herself. I honestly heard zero words coming out of her mouth, realizing later that it was because I fell asleep.</p><p>“We are leaving right now, so let’s move it.”</p><p>The briefing room was cleared by the rest.</p><p>“And as for you party girls…” Prentiss looked at me and Penelope, who got back from puking at some point that I didn’t notice. “You can sleep on the jet, Vivian. You may have a nap here while we are in the air,” she said to Penelope “We need you sober and well-rested, we are against the clock for this case, so you girls need to be at your best game, are we clear?”</p><p>“Yes, ma’am,” we both answered in unison.</p><p>“And since we are not technically in working hours yet or working the case, I am not going to reprimand you. You are both going to be punished enough by the hell of hangover you are going to experience.” Penelope and I sighed in relief “However let this be a warning, don’t get this wasted when you know we can get called at any time of any day.”</p><p>“Thank you, Emily. And I am so, so sorry.” I mumbled, not being able to look my boss in the eyes.</p><p>“Me too, Em…we…”</p><p>“As much as I want to hear this story, I can’t right now. There’s no time, it's a long way from here to Vegas.” Prentiss reminded us, “Ready Contreras?”</p><p>“yeah”</p><p>“Okay, then wheels up in 5.”</p><p>I couldn’t remember how I got into the jet, nor how I stole Spencer’s usual place on the couch. I didn’t remember how I got to the black SUV’s waiting for us at the airport, and how we got into the precinct. I woke up on the couch of an unknown conference room in a Las Vegas P.D building. I sat on the sofa I had slept on for God knows how many hours and looked around, noticing the room was empty except for one tall, slender figure. Reid was working on a map, probably doing the geo-profile.</p><p>“Hey, you are up!”</p><p>“Coffee, I need…coffee.” Was the only thing I could say.</p><p>“I don’t think you might want coffee. You are probably going to experience reflux due to the high level of alcohol your body’s processing, coffee is acidic. Therefore it would only make the reflux worse. I suggest you eat something without grease and try to hydrate.”</p><p>He was now looking right at me, his hair was messy, his sweater was buttoned incorrectly by one buttonhole, he looked adorable. Spencer walked towards the center table, he grabbed a brown paper bag and gave it to me. Inside, I found a foam container with plain pancakes, and a bottle of blueberry flavored vitamin water. I took it all out, it smelled delicious, and I was starving.</p><p>“Thank you, Reid. Did they leave you to babysit me?”</p><p>He smiled softly and nodded before going back to what he was doing. I opened the container and began eating the pancakes, savoring every single bit of it.</p><p>“This is so embarrassing. How long have I been asleep?”</p><p>“Six hours, twenty-one minutes, and fifty-three seconds. You haven’t missed anything regarding the case if you are wondering.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah…the case.” </p><p>I recalled and closed my eyes, suddenly feeling my head pounding, my heart beating in my ears, and the embarrassment in my stomach. I was not going to be able to live past the scene I made that morning. </p><p>“I actually don’t remember anything of it.”</p><p>He chuckled a little and turned to see me.</p><p>“I thought you might say that, so I’ve been stopping myself from setting the case board. Thought it could be an easier way to take the case if you helped put it on.”</p><p>I nodded in agreement and stood up from the couch only to sit down again at the table. He sat across me, giving me some cardboard pieces, a marker, and evidence pictures.</p><p>“We have six victims in three weeks. Jenna Olsen, Kerry Hamilton, Sarah Lin, Pilar West, Sloan Reyes, and Grey Faraday. Choked to death, there are ligature marks in their wrists and ankles and some hematomas in their torsos. We found skin cells under Sarah’s and Sloan’s nails. However, we didn’t have any luck. All of them were in their late 20’s, attractive and all very active in dating sites per se.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” I asked at the same time that I was writing down the victim’s names on cardboard slips.</p><p>“This ‘dating sites’ are more like sites to find people with the same…<em>erotic interests.”</em></p><p>“Ah. Good for them.”</p><p>Spencer dismissed my comment and proceeded to paste the victims’ pictures with the tags I had just written along with some other crime scene pictures.</p><p>“They were taken in pairs. One pair each Friday since three weeks ago, and the bodies are disposed of around Saturday night.”</p><p>“There’s a pattern. He likes to have a blonde and a brunette for whatever his <em>erotic interests </em>are.”</p><p>“Yeah, we’ve already noticed that, Vivian.”</p><p>“I should've known, you obviously did…has Penelope made contact?”</p><p>“Yes, but she couldn’t find anything, all of the victims’ devices were wiped clean, including their clouds, and there’s no obvious connection between them. They didn’t know each other”</p><p>“Geez…this means we have five days to find this guy before he takes two other girls, and we have literally no clues.”</p><p>“Yes. You are now up to speed in the case. You should finish your pancakes and vitamin water now before the rest arrive. They went to the disposal sites and to talk to Sloan’s and Grey’s families. Oh, I almost forgot.” he exclaimed, and began to touch his pockets looking for something. “Advil, you’ll need it.”</p><p>I sighed and thanked him. I took the pill and continued eating in silence. Reid kept working in the geo-profile mumbling words every now and then. I was so humiliated by my childish behavior. By the fact that my ex-professor and now colleague had to take care of me because I showed up drunk at work.</p><p>I was praying for the team to act oblivious of the matter; however, when they arrived, they weren’t oblivious at all. Luke and Rossi cracked some jokes about drunk me from now and then. JJ inevitably laughed, and Prentiss hinted from time to time why getting drunk is irresponsible, interrupted by the rough mentions of some of her own experiences. Spencer kept looking at me constantly, not laughing at their jokes. He looked worried and a little bit disappointed.</p><p>The night fell quickly, I was exhausted. I felt like I needed a cold shower and ten hours of sleep. We went all to the hotel that was going to serve as our home for the next few days. When I found myself alone in the hotel room, I called Penelope, who answered almost immediately.</p><p>“Viv! Thank God! How are you? How are you feeling?”</p><p>“I am fine. I was dead weight this whole day, but now, I am feeling a little better. You?”</p><p>“Same, I mean, I did most of what they asked me to do, but still…I wasn’t at my best. It feels awful.”</p><p>“Tell me about it,” I joked in response.</p><p>“I am truly sorry, Viv. I thought that it would make you feel better…”</p><p>“It did, for a few hours only, but I felt better.”</p><p>“If you want to talk about it…”</p><p>“I don’t. Really.” I interrupted her as I sighed and sat down on the bed’s edge. "Did you tell Jamie I was out of town again?"</p><p>“yes, I did. I took care of Chamomile’s midday walk today, but she’s taking care of him the rest of the week.”</p><p>“Thanks for your help, Penny.”</p><p>“You are very welcome. I just wished I could’ve helped the team a little bit more today, y’know?”</p><p>“Yeah, me too…You know that Spencer was assigned to babysit me today? You know how embarrassing that is?”</p><p>I stood up and opened the mini-fridge, there were M&amp;M bags which I loved. I took a bag out and started eating them, trying to think about something to speed things up with the case. To contribute after being nothing more than an obstacle that day.</p><p>“Maybe we can do something,” I added before she could say anything else.</p><p>“Yeah? What?”</p><p>“It is a bit of a longshot, but it is the best we have now. Are you still in the office?” I heard Penelope’s ‘mm-hm’ on the other side of the line, so I continued. “All right; I need you to set up a fake account of a beautiful brunette female in her late 20s in every single site we know the unsub has hunted in. Use various elements of the victim’s profile descriptions to create this new appealing person to our unsub.”</p><p>“I can do that, but you are right, it is<em> a lot</em> of a longshot.”</p><p>“We are still working on the profile, but so far we know he’s a Caucasian male in his late 20s to mid-30s, not very physically attractive. He is probably rich or pretending to be rich if these ladies agreed to see him and go home with him to do his <em>erotic interests. </em>Whoever bites on one of the fake profiles you set up, you shall dig in their lives and see if somehow it matches, okay? I’ll update you with the profile as soon as we know something.”</p><p>“Sounds like a plan. I gotta go set this up. Sleep tight.”</p><p>“You too, Penelope.”</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. 10: A Damp Noodle Trying to Stand Vertically Straight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Guys, we have another one missing," </p><p>JJ’s voice filled the conference room, commanding all of our attention.</p><p>“Erin Maccabee, 27…”</p><p>“is she the blonde or the brunette?” I asked.</p><p>We had been working on the case for five days and had no luck getting anywhere near the unsub. We had nothing, we were not even close. It was 6:32pm on a Friday, the day the abductions and murders would usually take place. I had never felt so impotent.</p><p>“The blonde.” JJ answered at the same time she pasted the picture of the new abductee on the board under the tag “Friday, September 20th”.</p><p>“Good…”</p><p>I sighed in relief, if the blonde was the one taken, then Penelope’s and I plan was still an option. The rest of the team looked at me, confused by the reaction. I didn’t justify myself.</p><p>“Where was she taken from?” I asked, ignoring my team's stares.</p><p>“From the Oak&amp;Ivy bar. Her friend Lana told me that Erin was meeting a guy there for a job, but then she called repeatedly Lana before the signal died, and the phone was unable to trace…”</p><p>I could hear JJ talking and explaining the news, but I wasn't wholly focusing on the details. My phone was ringing, it was Penelope on the other end.</p><p>“Excuse me,” I whispered, giving JJ an apologetic expression.</p><p> I left the room in hopes of going to a quieter place. Once out of earshot of the conference room, I answered.</p><p> “Hey, Penn.”</p><p>“Hey, beautiful creature, I come bearing news."</p><p>"Did you hear that the unsub got his blonde half? JJ just told us.”</p><p>“I did, and that’s why I wanted to talk to you. I was able to narrow down some of the matches for our fake profile. Lady, you are on fire because, in total, you got about 150 interested males.”</p><p>“What do you mean by <em>‘you are on fire’</em>?” I asked slowly.</p><p>“I may have or may have not used your pictures for the profile I set up.”</p><p>“You <em>what?</em>!” I exclaimed in disbelief.</p><p>“I couldn’t use some random girl picture, that is stealing someone’s identity, and it is illegal. Check your email."</p><p>My phone buzzed in my hand as the push notification came through for a new email. I clicked on the link she sent, discovering my photos all over the profile she'd set up for me. I felt a little exposed knowing that every creep in Las Vegas, including our unsub, was looking at pictures of me.</p><p>“How did you get these pictures anyway? They aren’t up in my social media.”</p><p>“I…" Penelope laughed awkwardly, "hacked your cloud."</p><p><em>"Penelope Garcia!"</em> I barked.</p><p>"You have pretty pictures in there that need to see the light someday, you know! But hey, on my way out, I made it safer. It is now fifty times harder to hack, and I promise I will never do it again.”</p><p>I sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose as I leaned up against the wall. "just because I am in the middle of an active case, I will put up with it, but next time you are <em>dead…</em>” I threatened. "Now, before we waste any more time. What were you saying?”</p><p>“Oh yeah, I’ve been running filter after filter and doing background checks after background checks for everyone who has matched with your profile. I compared the most obvious ones with some of the breadcrumbs I found in Erin’s profile.”</p><p>“I thought this guy didn’t leave breadcrumbs.”</p><p>“He doesn’t, but because we found out about Erin the second she was missing, I was able to get some numbers before it was wiped clean by the unsub.”</p><p>My heartbeat quickened— this could be the break we needed in this case!</p><p>“Oh my God, Penelope! You are a <em>goddess.</em>”</p><p>“Not so fast, I got three possible hits, but I can’t narrow it down any further.”</p><p>“Neither can I, I am too invested in it, we need some fresh sets of eyes. I think it is time to tell the team.”</p><p>I heard Penelope’s fingers typing rapidly as if they agreed with me. </p><p>“Don’t hang up, I am going to get them.”</p><p>I walked back to the conference room, where the team was discussing their next move. They were all talking at the same time, a sign that they had no idea what to do next.</p><p>“By now, he probably has his brunette victim,” Luke said, defeated.</p><p>“Not necessarily,” I mumbled, a sound that was overshadowed by the rings of their devices announcing that they got mail.</p><p>“What is this?” Prentiss asked while opening the file in her black tablet.</p><p>“Possible suspects. Penelope and I have been working on some sort of trap this week, we didn’t tell you guys because it was a long shot, it still is, and we didn’t want us to be fixated on it or to put our hopes up, but now, it is the best we have.”</p><p>I put Penelope on speaker and held my phone out so everyone could hear.</p><p>“Yes, our own Agent Contreras asked me to set fake accounts on the same sites and similar ones to what our unsub used. You can check the links I sent you. We created a persona appealing enough for our guy based on the victims’ descriptions and personality. I’ve been filtering matches and running background checks in the looks of any red flags based on the profile you made.” Penelope explained. “Now, with Erin’s disappearance, I managed to get some numbers from the profile that was used with her to lure her since they are partial numbers. It matches 3 of Vivian’s matches, who also happen to have the same <em>erotic interests</em> as our unsub.”</p><p>“We need help to figure out which one it is. Who knew so many people like threesomes and choking games with a blonde and a brunette?” I said with a little excitement in my voice due to the advance we'd just made. “I can’t do it anymore, I’ve been doing these filters over and over again, I am kind of biased so…”</p><p>“It happens, it's fine.” Prentiss interrupted as she looked up from her tablet for the first time in the whole explanation. “Let’s review it all, Penelope makes contact with the three of them, see who is more eager to meet tonight. Reid, check which are more active in the geo-profile according to the information. We’ll take it from there. The rest of us need to analyze the background checks Garcia sent. This might be the only chance we have to get this bastard, so don’t waste any time. Are we clear?”</p><p>Everyone answered in unison. I nodded and sat down, sighing in relief that I <em>finally</em> did something helpful.</p><p>“It was a good decision to keep it from the team until you got results; however, next time at least inform <em>me</em>. I am your chief after all, and I have to explain your decisions to the higher ranks so…I’d like to know what you are up to.” Prentiss said with a firm tone but a quiet smile to soften the mood. “Nevertheless, you and Penelope did good work.”</p><p>I stood still for a few seconds taking in the little win I just had. We obviously had a long way to go from that moment on, but it was something that I desperately <em>needed</em> to restore my faith in the job.</p><p>I got an almost immediate call back from Penelope, for which I put her on speaker once more.</p><p>“Someone’s answered, Dirk Henson, he says he wants to meet tonight, in two hours at Dino’s Lounge, another bar. Check out the background checks I just sent.”</p><p>“That bar is right in the center of the comfort zone,” Spencer announced.</p><p>“He also lives within its limits, and his house is in the desert, isolated. No one would be able to hear the victims’ screams.” JJ added.</p><p>“I see that he has had charges for indecent sexual behavior in other states…” Luke said, looking at us, expecting us to say something about it.</p><p>“But Mark Lacombe and Fred Carlisle have those too…” Rossi gave reason and sighed, “Penelope, please check if he has juvenile records.”</p><p>“Juvenile records, why didn’t I think of that?” she exclaimed.</p><p>I could hear her fast and furious typing on the other side of the line “While this is loading, what should I answer to Dirk?”</p><p>“Accept his proposal. If he is our guy, he won’t wait long, he is impatient and probably looking for another brunette.” Prentiss ordered, “We have to ensure he’s not getting anyone else."</p><p>“Roger that, …but what if he isn’t?”</p><p>“We’ll deal with that later. We need to be prepared. Garcia, any luck with the juvenile records?”</p><p>“Mark and Fred are clear. However, our very own Dirk has a lot of charges for voyeurism, mistreating animals like choking his little sister’s cat to death all before turning 18. Man, how could I have missed this?!”</p><p>“It’s okay Garcia, you had your hands full.” Rossi comforted her.</p><p>“What’s our move now?” Spencer questioned worriedly. “I mean, we know this Dirk Henson is our unsub, but we don’t have any substantial proof or probable cause to get a warrant to search his house.”</p><p>“He probably has Erin, and he’ll probably kill her, isn’t that enough?” I questioned, feeling more impotent by the second.</p><p>“Maybe for us, but not for a judge, we have to make this arrest clean.” Prentiss whispered, “But we have that date, don’t we Penelope?”</p><p>“Ah…yes, my friend, Dirk just answered confirming the meetup. Again, Dino’s Lounge at 9pm, he asked for a red dress and hair to be worn down.”</p><p>I made a disgusted face and shrugged my shoulders. It was so creepy I could barely believe some girls fell for or were into this. But hey, I was in no position to judge. Regular people wouldn’t be into my job either.</p><p>“All right, Contreras, see if you can find a red dress in the evidence room, or we’ll have to buy one…you’ll need to doll up.”</p><p>“Excuse me? I don’t understand, Emily, why do I have to dress up to make an arrest?”</p><p>“We can’t just make the arrest Viv," Luke started. "it would be the same as the warrant to search his house. We don’t have probable cause, it is all just speculation revolving around a profile and a long shot bait…” </p><p>The look in his eyes told me that what was going to happen next was something I wouldn’t like. </p><p>“So, what we need is someone to get in his house. We need him to invite that person in, so they can look for any sign of Erin being there. If that’s the case, signal us so we can make the arrest.”</p><p>“I get that, but why can some other police officer do it, or JJ? Why does it have to be me?”</p><p>“Sweetie, I am a blonde, not a brunette as he expects. And as much as I would love it, I am not 27, like you,” JJ answered.</p><p>“It has to be you because Penelope used your pictures to set up the profile,” Prentiss added. </p><p>I growled in disagreement. I was suddenly more irritated with Penelope and her expert hacking skills...</p><p>“He is expecting you, he likes you," Prentiss continued. "So if we are right, that I hope we are, it shouldn’t be hard to get him to ask you to go to his house. All you’ll need to do is talk to him, flirt with him and follow his lead. If you get to his house and you see Erin or something that screams crime, you’ll let us know, and we will be there. If not, you just have to ask to leave before it gets uncomfortable…” </p><p>Prentiss sighed deeply and looked at me with defeated eyes. </p><p>“Look, Vivian, for better or for worse, you fit the victimology perfectly; you are an attractive brunette female in her late 20s… you are the only one who can pull this off. We need you."</p><p>I let all of the air in my lungs leave my body and nodded with my head. I couldn’t fight my boss’ orders, all I could do was hope to not mess anything up, and to stay alive. It was going to be the first time I did any sort of undercover job, and my acting skills were abysmal, and so my flirting skills, all the odds were against me.</p><p>JJ offered to help me get ready. She found a random off the shoulder tight red dress in the evidence room and had it washed and cleaned before giving it to me. She helped me with the makeup and styling my very rebellious hair. I appreciated that she didn’t try to convince me that everything was going to be okay, because we both knew there was a wide margin of error. We just talked about boys and our high school sweethearts. I told her everything about Oscar O’Malley, my first and last formal boyfriend. She seemed genuinely interested in my love life, which I somehow appreciated too. We switched topics to more trivial stuff like clothes and makeup trends, and that helped me forget what was about to go down that night.</p><p>“You are all set, Viv.” She said while tucking a piece of hair in my ear. “You look beautiful.”</p><p>I felt color flood my cheeks as I smiled sheepishly. Despite the unnerving thought that I was getting dressed up to catch a creep, JJ had made this experience a whole lot easier.</p><p>“Thanks for helping me out, JJ.”</p><p>“Anytime.” She smiled softly, comforting me in a motherly fashion, nodded in approval after looking at me one last time, and left.</p><p>I found myself alone in the locker room, all dressed up for a date that was meant to end up in a homicide attempt. I looked at myself in the frontal camera of my phone. JJ was right, I looked good. The red dress made my cinnamon skin tone pop. The golden tones we used in the makeup made me glow a little, which I loved but still somehow felt out of myself. I wasn’t this glamorous, sexy gal in 'real-life' anymore. I used to dress up regularly, but now, I wore black pants and oversized cardigans to go to a bar. The girl in the camera was an adult version of the Vivian I used to be in high school. The problem was that that girl vanished a long time ago. I had no idea how to flirt and be sexy as an adult. I hadn't been on a decent date since I was 18, and even then, it was with someone I'd been dating for years. Every second that went by, I grew less confident in my ability to pull this off. </p><p>My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening.</p><p>“JJ?” I asked, expecting my blonde co-worker to be returning to check on me.</p><p>“No, it’s me.”</p><p>I turned around to find Spencer standing in the doorway. His hazel eyes roved over me, and I saw his adam's apple bob as he swallowed.</p><p>“Hey, Reid, what are you doing here?”</p><p>“Ah, ah, I was, am,” he stuttered “I am supposed to plant this on you. The mic, I mean…” </p><p>He walked towards me, took the little metal device between his fingers, but flickered when he realized the only place to put it was in the chest area of the dress. His cheeks turned a twinge of pink as he swallowed once more. I reached out and plucked the mic from his fingers.</p><p>“I can do it," I said, smiling slightly.</p><p>He sighed in relief, thanking me with his eyes, and sat in one of the available benches. I grabbed the mic and collocated on the edge of the dress.</p><p>“Is it on?" I said, testing the mic. "Can you hear me?”</p><p>“Loud and clear.” He answered. “Everyone in the team will be able to hear everything you say, and if he is close enough, what he says too. Right now, I am the only one wearing the hearing piece, so…”</p><p>“Will you be able to talk to me?” I asked, taking a seat right next to him.</p><p>“No, the hearing device is a dead giveaway; it is impossible to hide. Ideally, we could give you some sort of earrings with a piece hiding in it, but we don’t have the time to manufacture one of those right now…”</p><p>“I just— I just need someone to tell me what to do. I don’t want to mess things up.”</p><p>“There’s no way you'll mess up.”</p><p>I laughed sardonically. “You haven’t seen me flirt, Reid. It is like watching a wet noodle trying to stand vertically straight. It makes you feel uncomfortable. It makes you cringe and wish that that noodle wasn’t that moist. I haven’t flirted in almost a decade. I can’t be sexy or seductive; when I do, it looks like it is a joke. I…I…blow everything off before it even starts. That’s why I didn’t want to do this in the first place.” </p><p>I tried to hide the fact that my voice was cracking. I felt my eyes watering, but I couldn’t cry, not in front of him. He thought I was weak as it is, this was going to give him more reasons to believe I was incompetent. I closed my eyes hard, trying to stop the tears from coming out. The memories of last Saturday flooded my mind again, and then it was impossible not to cry. To my surprise, Spencer hugged me, his chin was resting in my head. It was the first time I hugged him, and it felt so right, so revitalizing and somehow safe.</p><p>“Tell me what's going on…” he mumbled without separating himself from me.</p><p>“No,” I answered, drowning in my own pathetic tears.</p><p>“Tell me, you can’t go to the field like this, or anywhere for that matter, it is not healthy to keep things to yourself.”</p><p>I distanced myself a few centimeters from him, giving him a ‘really, dude?’ look, he laughed softly and shook his head. He was the number one champion of bottling his feelings, and he dared to tell me that it was not healthy for me to do it? </p><p>“I told you I am way past that, but you are still on time. Come on, we have a few minutes before we have to go.” He encouraged me with a tender smile, a smile I’d never seen before that precise moment “I won’t tell anyone. The mic isn’t open for the rest yet.”</p><p>I looked down a few seconds toying with the idea to tell him about my personal issues. It would be the second time in less than a month that I needed an intervention from a colleague. It was embarrassing but seemingly necessary. This job highlighted every single flaw in my life, every single insecurity, and fear but somehow managed to place the right things to fix them right in front of me. I sighed and nodded in agreement.</p><p>“Well, for the past month, I’ve been struggling with the idea that I might be destined to be alone forever, but last Saturday, I got evidence to prove it.”</p><p>“Based on what?” He asked, furrowing his brow.</p><p>“Well, I am almost thirty, and my last formal relationship ended when I was 18. All of my friends my age are either married, engaged, or in a long term relationship.”</p><p>“That doesn’t mean anything, I am almost forty, and I am still single.”</p><p>I raised my eyebrows and stared at him, analyzing his face. He genuinely thought it was going to comfort me by saying that. It was actually kind of sweet that he thought that, but it was also a reminder that Spencer Reid wasn’t the most average person. He didn’t have ordinary thoughts and ideas, and he didn’t care much about the trivialities other people cared about. His head and heart were miles ahead from the rest of us, so naturally, he couldn’t care less about dating, getting a girlfriend, or anyone else’s opinion regarding that for that matter.</p><p>“What I am trying to say is that I thought that I was going to stay alone forever after…well, is a long story, the point is, I felt what you are feeling.” he finished.</p><p>“And you don’t feel that now?”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“What happened?” I questioned.</p><p>He shrugged his shoulders and went on. “I just…don’t worry about it. I am weird and awkward with girls.” </p><p>I giggled at that comment that to me was a no-brainer, he didn’t laugh back, so I shut up.</p><p>"It's fine, it’s the truth, and I know it. I can’t flirt either, I am like that damp noodle too. I know that if I am going to date someone, it has to be a girl who understands that <em>I am a wet noodle</em> and doesn’t feel weird about it. I also know that a girl like that isn’t going to be easy to find. Thus, I made peace with it, and you should too.”</p><p>I looked at him with surprise in my eyes, that was actually good advice. I couldn’t help but laugh a little.</p><p>“Did you, Spencer Reid, just give me dating advice?”</p><p>He laughed for a few seconds as well. “Yeah, now that I think about it, maybe I should’ve stayed quiet.”</p><p>“No, it’s okay. I will take any advice from anyone at this point.” I pointed out and raised my shoulders, “Everything is welcome after last Saturday.”</p><p>His hazel eyes were fixated in my face, he didn’t even seem to blink. For a moment there, I thought he was actually interested in listening to find out why I was hurting. Not because he was worried that I would mess everything up with the case, but because he actually cared.</p><p>“What happened last Saturday, anyway? I am curious to know how the hell you got so drunk with Penelope,” he said with amusement in his voice to soften the mood.</p><p>“Oh, it is a sad and pathetic story.”</p><p>“I can handle sad and pathetic.”</p><p>I exhaled, shaking my head and wondering why I was willing to repeat what had happened to another human being. “Promise not to laugh.”</p><p>He looked at me, quizzically, “Why would I?”</p><p>“All right, fine, I'll tell you, I guess.” </p><p>I gave in and looked the other way, I didn’t want to see his face when I told him, it would be humiliating, but I was craving to tell someone about what happened. Just to let it out of my chest. </p><p>“My friend Jamie, she’s my neighbor. She’s super sweet and smart, she owns a bakery…now that I think about it you should totally meet her.” </p><p>Spencer raised his eyebrows, which made me realize I was avoiding the point.</p><p> “Well, she met this posh, super-rich, and handsome district attorney or something like that at her gym and thought it was a good idea to set me up with him.”</p><p>“How did it go?”</p><p>I swallowed hard, fighting the desire to cry. He looked at me with pity, which I hated, but I also understood it was inevitable.</p><p>“He never showed up,” I mumbled, looking down. </p><p>Spencer shook his head in disapproval and mumbled some words I couldn’t understand.</p><p>“I dolled up like tonight, a little less sexy ‘cause it is not my style to be this flashy. I thought I looked pretty, though.” I sighed, calming myself a little. “I went to that fancy restaurant on Connecticut Avenue, with the weird name, and waited for almost three hours, looking like a freaking idiot…dealing with the waiter’s pity stares as well as the rest of the commensals.”</p><p>“Did you get drunk there?”</p><p>“No, that was after. Penelope called and asked where I was. I explained everything to her, and she thought it would be a good idea to go clubbing and drown my sorrows in alcohol. So we went to, I don’t know how many clubs, drank colorful stuff, and did stuff I am embarrassed to admit I don’t recall. I honestly don’t even remember how I got home. I just know it was around 3am, and two hours later I got the call to go to the office…But that’s not the point, we are deviating from the subject…The thing is that in the past years, I have become super insecure regarding those matters, and the fact that I got stood up its just a low blow to my already damaged ego." I explained while cleaning the tears on my cheeks. “I mean, I used to be the one who stood people up! Not that I ever did, I was always very clear with my intentions with guys, but I could stand people up if I wanted to! Now…this guy didn’t even bother to call to let me know he wasn’t going. He hadn’t even met me and already decided I wasn’t good enough…” I shook my head, feeling that intense disbelief yet again. “Talk about a motive why I can’t do this assignment tonight.”</p><p>My colleague stared at me and analyzed me from head to toe. He stood up and gave his hand, which I took after a little hesitation since I knew he wasn’t thrilled about hand grabbing. I stood up and looked into his eyes, they were full of a weird combination of sadness, disappointment, and indignation.</p><p>“You are a beautiful female, you are charming and highly intelligent. Tonight you just have to be you, but a little less smart…” he joked with a soft smile in his face.</p><p>“Guys, it is time to go,” Rossi announced from the door frame of the locker room. “Let’s move.”</p><p>“We’ll be there in a minute, Dave,” Reid answered. The veteran agent left, and Spencer continued. “And as for that douchebag, well, I don’t want to sound cliché, and I am sure you’ve heard this before but, he is the one missing out. Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t show up.”</p><p>“Thanks, Spencer. You know, it was really sweet of you to listen to all this girly sentimental <em>crab</em>. I truly appreciate it.”</p><p>“Vivian, time to go!” Luke screamed.</p><p>“Coming!” I shouted.</p><p>I giggled, cleaning up my tears one last time. I wasn’t crying anymore, so these were the sole survivors. </p><p>“We have to go. I’ll see you later. Thanks again.”</p><p>I left the locker room, but I still heard a soft “anytime” coming from his lips.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. 11: Where the Frog are You Guys?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you Abigail?”</p><p>Oh shoot, yes, that’s me. React Vivian, or he will suspect something.</p><p>“Yes, that’s me. And you must be Dirk…” </p><p>I forced myself to smile at him. Surprisingly he was good looking—better looking than in his driver’s license picture or his profile picture. He was tall, muscular, blond with green eyes and a charming smile. </p><p>That was it, he lost weight and got his teeth fixed.</p><p> If I didn’t know what a complete creep he was, I would’ve fallen for his trap too effortlessly. </p><p>“Nice to meet you, I hope you don’t mind that I already started." </p><p>I pointed to the dirty martini in front of me. I didn’t even like martinis, but they were sexy people’s drinks, so I chose to drink one. The inverted triangle glass paired well with my slinky red dress, and Prentiss had ordered the bartender to serve me water with a splash of olive juice instead of alcohol. </p><p>Dirk sat on the bench in front of me. He smiled graciously and stared at me, analyzing my every move. I also felt my teammates’ stares from diverse areas of the bar.</p><p>“Is this your first time?” he asked.</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>“On a date like <em>this</em>, a <em>special</em> kind of date.”</p><p>“Ah, yes. I’ve never used that site before, and honestly, I was kind of nervous…I thought maybe you were cat fishing me.” I answered, forcing myself to smile once again. “But…I was so wrong.”</p><p>“Like what you got?” He asked, flashing his handsome smile and leaning in towards me ever so slightly.</p><p>“The truth?” I asked.</p><p>He nodded affirmatively, I bit my lip gently and nodded. He grinned even wider.</p><p>“All right, we’re off to a great start, then."</p><p>We kept talking, hinting to the next step from now and then. He kept ordering me drinks, confirming Prentiss's foreseeing that he might try to get me drunk before taking me to his secondary location. Time passed, he seemed not to advance, and I was getting very tired of drinking olive juice water.</p><p>“You know… I thought that something <em>special </em>was happening tonight," I said, dragging my words to appear intoxicated. "I'm gonna go.” </p><p>I stood up and grabbed my purse, hoping for my reverse psychology plan to work. I didn’t want to lose any more time if this guy was the one who had Erin, and if he wasn’t, that meant that some other brunette was getting abducted right about now.</p><p>“Don't don’t go.” He exclaimed, stopping me. “Let’s go somewhere else now, you seem really eager to get this thing going...” </p><p>Dirk stood up as well and grabbed my waist, I felt goosebumps but wasn’t allowed to show it.</p><p>“The third party is probably waiting for us anyway.” </p><p>There it is. Dirk leaned in to kiss my neck, which I allowed just to see Luke’s reaction to the recent development, he nodded and said something to the rest of the team.  </p><p>“Excited?” Dirk asked, whispering in my ear.</p><p>I shoved down the urge to vomit and put on my best seductive smile. “You have no idea.”</p><p>I went in to kiss him on his lips, giving the team enough time to get ready to follow us without Dirk noticing a group was on our tail.</p><p>The busy, noisy Las Vegas streets made me anxious. I wasn’t sure if the team was still following us or not, and I wasn’t sure either that we were going to his house. The whole drive was spent with Dirk touching my leg and saying things with double meaning. It was gross and made me feel sick to be lowered to this level to catch a bad guy, but if it wasn’t me, it was going to be some other girl with zero chance to get out of there alive.</p><p>We finally arrived at his house, it was the house we had the address from. I sighed in relief. We got out of the car and walked inside the house. The energy there was messed up. I could already feel that something was definitely wrong. I began to search for clues, for something that could tell me if Erin was here, or if someone had been murdered here.</p><p>“Leave all of your stuff there, shoes included.”</p><p>Smart, very smart, Mr. Murderer. I left everything where he told me to and followed him.</p><p>“Let’s go, she’s waiting for us down there.”</p><p>“Down there? The basement?" I asked, trying to sound innocent and naive. "Don’t you think it is a little bit creepy?”</p><p>“It is not creepy, it's…mysterious and sexy.”</p><p>I nodded, pretending to look interested and excited. As soon as he looked away, my face went back to the perpetual disgust face. The second he opened the basement door. I could hear some drowned screams.</p><p>“Come on, beautiful.”</p><p>He began to descend down the staircase and so did I. My vision range widened up as I went down, there I finally saw it. Erin was there, tied by her ankles and wrists, she was also gagged and naked. She looked desperate, she was trying to tell me to run, even with the ball in her mouth I could tell. I repeatedly blinked, trying not to cry.</p><p>“So…she’s already prep and ready to go,” I said, hating myself for it. </p><p>I gave my back to her, unable to ignore her screams of desperation if I was looking at her. Dirk was smiling wide, palpable excitement in his eyes.</p><p>“She’s gorgeous," I continued. "what’s her name?”</p><p>“Erin, I think…”</p><p>“Erin?" I emphasized her name so the team could understand that now it was the moment to go. "That’s a pretty name, good that we are both here.” </p><p>Dirk turned around and began preparing his <em>erotic interests</em> stuff while I walked on the sly towards Erin. I mouthed an “I’ll help you” and asked her to stay quiet. Dirk grabbed my hips, making me jump out of surprise.</p><p>“Easy, babe…” </p><p>He turned me around so I could face him. He stared at my boobs, which I found disgusting. Suddenly, his face contorted with anger.</p><p>“You <em>bitch!”</em></p><p>I realized instantly that he was now staring at the mic inside my dress near my boobs and obviously not concealed well enough. I growled in pain as he tossed me to the concrete wall. I tried to hit him and kick him like I was trained to do, but he was much bigger and stronger than me, and I was wearing an awfully tight dress. He grabbed my arms and pressed me against the wall.</p><p>“Back up, now!”</p><p>That was the last thing I was able to say before he tore the mic from the dress. He grabbed me by the neck, choking me so hard he lifted me off the ground. I kept kicking the air even though I was growing dizzy.</p><p>'Where the <em>frog</em> are you guys?’ I thought, praying that my team would be coming through the door any second.</p><p>I couldn’t die like this, not like this, objectified and choked by a white guy. I heard the door burst open and footsteps on the stairs, though I couldn’t see who it was…oh no, the first sense was out, that meant there was not much time before…</p><p>
  <em>Bang!</em>
</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. 12: Eight Seconds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Air, oh, precious air...</p><p>Air began to fill in my lungs again as I rested on the floor with Dirk Henson’s dead body over me. I was conscious but still couldn’t move, I was weak and panting. I tried to swallow, but it was tough to do so. My vision began to clear up, and I discovered Spencer lowering his gun down and running towards me, followed by Luke and Rossi. JJ ran to free Erin and covered her. I heard multiples “Clear!” from other police officers that were probably registering the house. Spencer kneeled to my level.</p><p>“Call an ambulance! We need medics here, now!" He shouted over his shoulder, then turned back to me. "Contreras…calm down, you're okay...”</p><p>“Get it off of me…” I forced out. </p><p>My eyes were watery from the effort of breathing. Spencer looked at everyone, they all nodded their heads, giving him permission to move the body from me. It was a crime scene, a dead unsub, it couldn’t be disturbed, but there were enough witnesses as to where the body was found, so he was able to move it off me.</p><p>“Don’t talk, your vocal cords are probably swollen, it is going to bother you to breathe and swallow for some time…”</p><p>I was panting and shivering, feeling like every ounce of energy had been drained from me. As soon as I felt a little strength, I stood up and ran towards Erin, ignoring Spencer's orders to stay down. She was now out of the ligatures and covered by a blanket.</p><p>“Are you okay?” I asked with the miserable voice I had “Are you hurt?”</p><p>“No, I'm okay…” she answered, clearly still in shock of what she had witnessed and probably went through before we arrived. “Your neck…it’s all red, you weren’t breathing…” she whispered.</p><p>“it's okay, I am okay," I assured her, but at the same time feeling like I was about to pass out. “We’re okay."</p><p>“Thank you…”</p><p>I nodded, and then, she was taken by some officers to get out of the house. I felt the world becoming scrambled eggs once more. My knees turned to Jell-O, my throat felt like it was obstructed once more. I was about to faint, but Luke caught me and escorted me to the exterior of that infernal house. The fresh air on my face was the best thing I'd felt in my entire life.</p><p>Luke led me to an ambulance, parked, and ready just outside the house.</p><p>“Don’t take me to a hospital, please..." I groaned weakly.</p><p>One of the paramedics nodded and went on to perform a routine medical exam. Luke asked me if I was okay. I answered with a simple ‘yes’ and watched him as he made his way to the circle of people gathered around Prentiss. I strained to hear their conversation.</p><p>“Henson was unarmed, Reid, how do we explain why you took the shot?”</p><p>“He killed 6 women, was about to kill two others, one of them was one of our agents, and she lacked oxygen…a few more seconds…”</p><p>“He was <em>unarmed</em>!”</p><p>“Listen to me, I counted every single second that passed since she openly asked for backup, and when we were there to help her. A hundred and seventy-two seconds…that translates to 2 minutes and fifty-two seconds, Prentiss. Eight more seconds, eight more seconds, and she could have begun to have irreparable brain damage, or worse, she could’ve died. We would’ve lost a great agent, a good young woman just because he was killing her with his hands and not a knife or gun.”</p><p>“Calm down, Reid…”</p><p>“No, I can’t calm down. Eight seconds. We only had <em>eight seconds.</em>”</p><p>“He’s right, Emily, we asked him to leave her alone twice, but he didn’t even flinch. He had no intention to stop…he was going to kill her.” Rossi added, looking at me from a distance.</p><p>Prentiss nodded and sighed. She knew they were right. However, I knew she was afraid of the bureaucratic stuff she’d have to deal with, and the integrity of her team being questioned once more.</p><p>“SSA Prentiss…” exclaimed a police officer walking towards our unit’s chief. The officer was holding a laptop. “We found this in Henson’s bedroom.”</p><p>The officer pressed the spacebar, all of them oversaw the screen.</p><p>“He taped the rapes and murders…” Prentiss stated, he looked up from the screen to the rest of the team. “This guy just made it easier for us to justify your shot. Let’s hope we have a DNA match with the ones we retrieve from Sloan’s and Sarah’s nails,” She grumbled. “I’ll have to take a look at these. Officer, please, send these to Penelope García in our office in Virginia.”</p><p>“Sure thing, ma’am.”</p><p>“You guys have the rest of the night off…but we need to wrap the case up tomorrow morning in the precinct so we can get home, okay?"</p><p>They all agreed and went separate ways. Most of them took turns to watch over me, congratulate me. I was sitting on the edge of the ambulance, a blanket around my shoulders, and an oxygen mask on helping me breathe back to normal. I saw Spencer getting closer to me until he stood in front of me, his hands were in his pockets. He was still wearing a bulletproof vest.</p><p>“You did…”</p><p>“A great job?” </p><p>I interrupted him while taking the oxygen mask off for a few seconds, he nodded and looked to the ground. </p><p>“I didn’t do a great job, I just behaved sluttily and almost got killed. That is barely doing my job. <em>You</em> did a great job,” </p><p>Spencer looked at me with confusion.</p><p>“You shot Dirk, didn’t you?” I added.</p><p>“...Yes.” He said, after a moment.</p><p>“Thank you, I know you know, but I need to say it; thank you for saving my life, again.”</p><p>“It's fine, everyone would’ve done the same…”</p><p>But they wouldn’t have. I heard them discussing how that shot was not justified since Dirk wasn’t armed. I also understood how Spencer explained that I had 8 seconds before dying if he hadn’t shot. He looked uncomfortable, I saw him fidgeting with the vest and finally took it off. He sat by my side in the ambulance, putting the vest over his lap. He sighed.</p><p>“Are you all right?”</p><p>“Yes, a little sore. The paramedic said that I will have some ugly bruises in the neck for a few weeks, some headaches, but should feel fine. Also, I sound like I just smoked a hundred cigarettes, so no karaoke for me tonight.”  </p><p>I coughed when I tried to laugh. Spencer gave me the oxygen mask again. I breathed for a few seconds before speaking again.</p><p>“Man, I haven’t dated in a long time, and when I decided to go back in the game, I got stood up and choked to almost death. I haven’t had a decent date in almost a decade.”</p><p>“I haven’t had a decent date in my entire life.” He said softly.</p><p>“You are kidding…right?” I giggled, he didn’t. “Really? But I thought…Penny told me that you had a girlfriend.”</p><p>“I did,” he said plainly.</p><p>“Care to explain how you had a girlfriend but not a decent date?”</p><p>I stared at him with confusion in my eyes. He noticed but didn’t say a word. He looked at no specific point, his breathing was calm, but I could tell by the way he swallowed that he actually wasn’t. I hit a nerve.</p><p>“It's a sad and pathetic story,” He answered, after being silent for almost a minute. He used the same words I used earlier that day to explain my awful date. “Better told another time.”</p><p>“All right,” I said, to make sure he didn’t feel pressured to tell me whatsoever. “I can handle sad and pathetic as well, just so you know.”</p><p>My former professor laughed for a few moments and licked his lips before staring once more to nothing. He frowned subtly, something he regularly did when he was thinking.</p><p>“Do you want to grab a drink? Or some food?” He asked without looking at me in the eyes. “It has to be mostly liquid, or else you are going to hurt.”</p><p>The question affected me more than I wished it did. It was that nervousness all over again. The tickling stomach I had to put up with for all of the time he was my teacher, the feeling I thought I grew out of dared to resurface in the most inconvenient time. I licked my lips, a sign of nervousness. My head was spinning, and I realized a considerable amount of time had passed, creating tension in the environment.</p><p>“Ah, sure. I am starving.”</p><p>“Me too, and the night is still young, we have plenty of time to try to fix this awful experience of yours in Vegas.”</p><p>I smiled. “Nothing crazy, though?”</p><p>Spencer returned a smile. “Nope. Come on, you know me.”</p><p>Spencer drove for what it seemed like a long time, most of it we spent without talking. The car’s movement and the AC were so soothing I couldn’t help myself but relax. I was also wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt a police officer kindly gave me so I could get out of the tedious red dress. I was so immersed in my thoughts that the only thing that brought me back was the honks of a bunch of cars stuck in the Las Vegas traffic. </p><p>I found that we were just a little outside the Las Vegas downtown madness. Spencer didn’t notice, but I was staring at him, his messy hair, his pretty profile, the faces he made when somebody drove slightly out of the regulations… he was just amazing. </p><p>The SUV stopped at a diner. I got out of the vehicle and began to walk towards the entrance. He caught up on me fast enough to open the local’s door for me. I thanked him and walked inside. We both decided to sit in a booth, it was more comfortable than a regular table. Though this wasn’t the first time Spencer and I took dinner, it felt like it since then there had been a lot of tension between us in the past. We both grabbed the menus and used them as an excuse to not talk to each other.</p><p>“Hello lovelies, what can I get you?”</p><p>An older woman, probably in her late fifties, showed up at our table wearing what looked like the diner’s uniform. She smiled at both of us tenderly. Spencer looked up to our waitress and narrowed his eyes, something that he did when he was analyzing something.</p><p>“Marge, is that you? I can’t believe it, it’s me! Spencer!” he said happily as he stood up.</p><p>The woman scanned my teammate from head to toe, she tilted her head softly to the right and then smiled widely.</p><p>“Little Spencer Reid? Is that really you? Oh my God, you are all grown up! I haven’t seen you in decades!”</p><p>“I know!” he said with so much excitement in his voice I could barely recognize him; he leaned in to hug her, and also did she, “I am so happy to see you.”</p><p>“Likewise.” She answered by grabbing Spencer’s cheek, “You grew up to be a very handsome guy.” Marge scanned him once more and then looked at me. “This must be your girlfriend.”</p><p>“Oh…no, I'm not...” </p><p>I answered with the little voice I had, trying to dismiss the fact that this unknown woman to me suggested Spencer and I were dating. I saw from the corner of my eye Spencer’s reaction; he didn’t seem to care.</p><p>“She used to be my student, now she’s my colleague, we’re FBI agents.” He bragged a little, keeping that broad smile on his face.</p><p>“That’s amazing! I'm so proud of you!” She added. “Although I thought you were going to end up being a magician like you always said.”</p><p>“I needed something more stable," Spencer laughed, "I still do magic, though.”</p><p>“Order 84 ready, Marge,” the cook yelled from the kitchen.</p><p>“I have to go, sweetie, were you going to order something?”</p><p>“Oh, yes. Grilled cheese, and regular fries on the side, maybe a cup of vanilla ice cream…and apple juice. Thank you. Vivian?”</p><p>“Same, please,” I said hoarsely.</p><p>“You got it, I’ll be right back. It is nice to see you again, Spencer.”</p><p>The woman said while she left to take care of other orders. I looked around me, taking the place in, all of its details, all of its story.</p><p>“Ah, yes! You are a Vegas kid, I forgot.” I whispered.</p><p>“Oh, it's fine. Sometimes I do too…but coming here makes me remember how much I used to love it,” he explained calmly. “I used to come here every Sunday when I was a kid, my mom would bring me and let me get anything I wanted. It was one of her ways of apologizing and making me feel like a child.”</p><p>I nodded, I knew about his mom, he had mentioned it before, and Penelope had told me almost everything about it. Still, I felt that I wasn’t in any position to ask or to pretend that I knew more than he had revealed to me personally, it felt invasive.  </p><p>“It’s okay, I know that you know," he said. "You hang a lot with Penelope, and she is very chatty, plus, it is not a secret that my mom is schizophrenic”</p><p>I sat in silence for a couple of seconds, figuring out what to say. I wasn’t good at handling other people’s problems because I had zero insight in most of them. Still, I knew that apologizing was not a good idea. He seemed okay with it, or at least he was excellent at pretending that he was. Maybe he had made terms with his mother’s condition, perhaps he had already heard it all when it came to that, so probably what he needed to hear was nothing at all.</p><p>“How long has passed since last time you came here?” I switched the topic.</p><p>“The diner? About 25 years or so…when I left for college.”</p><p>I did the math mentally and opened my mouth, astonished with the result. “you were 13?”</p><p>“Yes," he said, completely unphased by my astonishment.</p><p>“No wonder why Marge had trouble recognizing you! You're almost 40!” </p><p>I said loudly, and immediately regretting it, my vocal cords were still swollen and sore.</p><p>“Don’t!” Spencer interjected. “Don’t speak that loud, in fact, you shouldn’t be talking at all, Contreras.”</p><p>“Alright, one last thing, can we talk about the fact that you left for college at 13?”</p><p>He laughed at me and shook his head. Just then, Marge arrived with the food, so we began eating in silence. I know I wasn’t the most pleasant company since I was not in a chatty mood because even thinking about talking made my throat hurt like crazy. I was also mentally exhausted about all the drama I had been involved in lately. Spencer didn’t seem to be bothered by it, in fact, it seemed like he was enjoying doing all the talking. It made sense; he was used to giving lectures and monologizing about stuff all the time.</p><p>“You know why a steak, bread, and salad are considered a healthy meal altogether, but a hamburger that is essentially the same isn’t?” </p><p>He jumped to talk, his eyes were shining, which meant he was about to ramble. I shook my head in denial.</p><p>“It's fascinating, you see, a hamburger…”</p><p>And with that, Spencer rambled about the nutritious differences between a steak, bread, and salad to a hamburger. He talked about social factors as well that contributed to the poor judgment of a burger. The funny part was that even though he was rambling, I was still paying attention to what he said. I listened to him hours upon hours. He looked like he was having fun as if he felt like he was being heard. He seemed happy, and I was glad that even though I wasn’t contributing enough to the conversation, I could still be a part of it somehow. Being with him almost made me forget that I was nearly choked to death earlier in the day or that I had one of the biggest confidence crises in my entire life.</p><p>After eating, Spencer said goodbye to Marge and drove us back to the hotel. To my surprise, he felt daring enough to go through the Las Vegas strip, just so I could see the lights and the casinos in their biggest splendor. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. 13: Eight People in Just One Month</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1 month has passed since the Las Vegas case that brought so many experiences upon me. From arriving to work drunk, realizing that guys, in fact, found me somewhat attractive (at least on dating sites), and my first close encounter with heaven by almost being choked to death, it had been a case for the books.</p><p>                                      </p><p>Apparently, telling someone your problems, crying with him, letting him see you vulnerable, and then sharing a nearly death experience can bring people together, so it almost felt like Spencer and I were on good terms. We were polite with each other, talked regularly, and cracked some jokes every now and then. It wasn’t a big deal, but it was way better than it was before. He would still be over my head, analyzing every single thing I did to make sure I was doing it correctly. He would always check on me after a case with not a very good outcome just so he could know that I was not losing it like he did.</p><p> </p><p>As a person who analyzes behavior for a living, I could notice that he truly felt that most of his losses and troubles came due to the job. At the same time, he couldn’t quit because he wanted to fill the void that the same job left him in the first place. He was in a loop, a vicious circle. Spencer would never recognize it even though he kept telling me from time to time that he felt that loss, downs, and trouble were inherent to the job. I believed everyone on the team was broken, and just like him, a lot of the reasons why came from this post.  </p><p> </p><p>I was indeed losing balance from my life because of the job like he said it would happen. Even though Oscar and I broke up ten years prior, I’d never felt lonely until I began working in the BAU. It was as if I knew deep inside of me that I was carrying too much on my shoulders, case after case, murder after murder. I had no one to bear it with me, or to comfort me, to love me and make me feel human after spending hours upon hours dealing with the most inhumane situations ever. Queue the anxious baking session when I learned my best friend was getting married and the hard-partying after being stood up. But again, because of that same job, I didn’t have time to date, falling into the loop I thought Spencer was also in.</p><p> </p><p>Funny. Really funny.</p><p> </p><p>However, I was not going to let my life become hell just because I was pursuing the career I wanted. The only thing that the lack of balance in my life was giving me was craving more than ever to be my best self and enjoy every single moment of every single day. I refused to keep feeling overwhelmed, sad, alone, or insecure just because my life wasn’t exactly where it was supposed to be, according to the rest of the society. I wasn’t going to drown, or choke because of it, I was, in fact, grabbing the bull by its horns and finally take charge of my own damn life. I needed to feel myself and go back to the confident, fun Vivian I used to be in high school, what I considered to be the best years of my life so far. I was not discrediting my teammates’ pain or loss, I was just learning from them to dodge those bullets.</p><p> </p><p>“Viv, oh my God, Viv! Look. At. This.” </p><p> </p><p>Penelope’s voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned to look at her, she was breaking through the desks in which agents were working concentrated, tapping her whimsical high heels against the FBI’s fancy floor. Following her was Luke carrying an enormous floral arrangement, so big I could barely see it was him behind it.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that?”</p><p> </p><p>“It's for you,” she answered with a smile taking over her face. “Don’t worry, I know it is Halloween, and the pranksters are out, but security cleared it. Who is it from?”</p><p> </p><p>Luke placed the arrangement on my desk. The three of us stared at it— it was gigantic. Roses, red roses, at least four dozen of them, maybe more, gorgeous but not my favorite. I padded them, trying to feel a card. When I found one, I thought that the right thing to do was read it aloud, since my two meddlesome friends were still standing there.</p><p> </p><p>“‘Vivian, I had an amazing time last Friday, I look forward to our next date. These flowers are just as beautiful as you are. Yours truly, Carl’”</p><p> </p><p>“Carl?” Luke asked curiously. “It doesn’t ring a bell, you haven’t told us about him.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t think it was necessary, I went out with him one time, and it was enough to decide that it wasn’t what I wanted.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why not? He seems sweet, he bought you theses.” Penelope added, she sounded disappointed.</p><p> </p><p>I shrugged. “He’s rich.”</p><p> </p><p>“So?”</p><p> </p><p>Penelope's eyes bugged out at me from underneath her thick-rimmed glasses. I rolled my eyes, knowing she would find 'Rich' to be the only necessary trait in a suitor. </p><p> </p><p>“He takes advantage of being rich to fill the enormous gaps in his barely non-existent personality.”</p><p> </p><p>“You are really picky, this is the eighth date you’ve been in the past month. <em>Eighth. </em>Eight guys who are willing to date you, and it seems like you are not interested in trying at least!” Penelope exploded, getting everyone’s attention. “Nothing to see here, go back to your jobs, people.” she added before taking a deep breath and looking at me. “huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“You guys were the ones who told me I should date more and meet a lot of people. Luke told me I shouldn’t settle for anyone, and that makes sense to me. I don’t want to date because of dating, I want to date someone who actually understands me and makes me happy. Rich character-less Carl is not that person, just as sexist Logan wasn’t either. Nor is allergic to dogs Phil, or defense attorney who let a rapist walk free Nelson. I just…don’t know what I want exactly.” I explained.</p><p> </p><p>Luke and Penelope looked at me. Since Vegas, I decided to give dating a shot and to dare more in that scope. To stop trying too hard being flirty or sexy like most girls, I acted like the wet noodle that wanted to stand vertically straight, like me. The result was that I turned into a serial dater trying to find the person who wouldn’t mind me being like that, my job, dog, and overall lifestyle. To my surprise, finding this was harder than I thought.</p><p> </p><p>“I think that the problem is that you know exactly what you want but can’t find it or have it,” Luke said. </p><p> </p><p>He shrugged his shoulders and gently tapped my back.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, what does that mean?” I asked, a hint of annoyance in my tone.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll figure it out, but in the meantime, stop breaking so many hearts.” </p><p>He laughed as he walked away into the office’s kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>“What does that mean?” I repeated with a soft voice.</p><p> </p><p>But I knew what he meant. I knew exactly what I wanted; Spencer Reid. I wasn’t <em>in love with him</em>. Maybe my unconscious was playing me because he saved my life in Vegas. It was just a stupid crush, like the cliché of the student crushing on her teacher. </p><p> </p><p>That’s precisely what it was, though; merely platonic, he would never give in, and I would certainly never <em>actually</em> fall in love with him. Yes, I thought he was handsome and all, but he was also really unstable and sometimes could be a colossal jerk. So…what was I even thinking about it?</p><p> </p><p>“You are keeping the flowers?” </p><p> </p><p>Penelope’s voice again saved me from my own thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess,” </p><p> </p><p>I shrugged. Penelope sighed and looked down. I could tell she was disappointed, so I had an idea.</p><p> </p><p>“But maybe you should keep it in your lair for me. It fits your aesthetic better than mine, and I suck at taking care of plants.”</p><p> </p><p>Penelope's face lit up. “Awesome! I totally agree. I’ll go make some space, and then I’ll be back to take ‘em.”</p><p> </p><p>I nodded and watched her leave for a few seconds. I was wondering if thanking Carl for the flowers was a good idea or not. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, but I also didn’t want to be rude. Damn, why did dating have to be so f-ing hard?</p><p> </p><p>“Boo!”</p><p> </p><p>My heart stopped. I reached for a pen on my desk and stood up as fast as I could, holding it near the person’s face until realizing I had been the victim of a Halloween prank by no other than Spencer Reid.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoah! Easy there Contreras, it’s just me.” Reid said. “Good thing this job isn’t getting to you, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Was that sarcasm?” I asked irritably. He sat in his desk right across mine, not before placing all of his Halloween props on it. “I thought you said you had trouble understanding sarcasm.”</p><p> </p><p>“Understanding it when someone else uses it, not when I do.” He explained. </p><p> </p><p>“ Whatever, it wasn’t that scary, I'm just a little biased because it’s Halloween night. Alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you talking about, Vivian? You almost attacked me with a pen!” Spencer replied with amusement in his voice.</p><p> </p><p>“He did get you pretty good, Viv.” </p><p> </p><p>JJ said, joining us by standing between our desks, she was also amused with the situation. It was evident that she was going to take Spencer’s side over mine, so I didn’t care much about her addition. </p><p> </p><p>“Uh, what’s this? ‘Vivian, I had an amazing time last Friday, I look forward to our next date. These flowers are just as beautiful as you are. Yours truly, Carl’” JJ read the roses’ note at loud yet again. “Who's Carl?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, who’s Carl” </p><p> </p><p>Spencer, who until a few seconds ago was still smiling from succeeding at scaring me, was now frowning a little “new boyfriend?"</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, please, not again,” I mumbled, already tired of the subject. </p><p> </p><p>Why couldn’t I have a lovely morning minding my own business at this job?  </p><p> </p><p>“If you must know, he’s some guy I went on a date last Friday. It is not a big deal. I really don’t like him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” JJ replied after noticing that I was clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. “Let’s not talk about it. What are your plans for tonight? It’s Halloween, after all.”</p><p> </p><p>I turned to look at Spencer, who still seemed a little invested in the flowers on my desk. I wondered if somehow it bothered him that someone sent me roses. That was really stupid. Why on Earth would he care?</p><p> </p><p>Penelope’s high heels announced that she was entering the room, I should’ve known what her business there was because of the speed she was walking at, but I still asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you here to take these? “ I said regarding the roses.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yes, but actually no.” She answered and frowned. “I'm sorry, guys, but we have a case.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. 14: The Halloween Capital of the World.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This was the first holiday I was going to miss because of my job at the BAU. I loved Halloween, but I also did not have any plans for it, so I was not bummed about missing it. I just hoped I would be home on time for Día de Los Muertos in two days, which seemed far fetched. Halloween was a time that made creeps feel invincible like they could get away with whatever twisted thing their sick brain was plotting. It was only natural that we would have a case around this time of the year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unlike me, JJ and Reid had plans for the night. She was excited about going trick or treating with her sons Henry and little Michael. Spencer was supposed to come along since Will, JJ’s husband was going to be on duty. Now, it was all ruined, and the two of them looked really bothered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rossi was supposed to go to a costume gala hosted by one of his poker buddies. He had bought his Dracula costume with fangs and everything for it. He was disappointed about not getting to wear it, and to be honest, I was too. I was looking forward to seeing photos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prentiss had plans, too, but didn’t share them with us. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So instead of getting ready for an evening of fun, we were all stuck together in the private jet, staring at each other’s faces awkwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s begin, shall we?” Prentiss ordered. “Garcia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We shall. So…yesterday morning Anoka P.D. received an anonymous threat letter about an attack during their Grand Day Parade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grand Day Parade?” Rossi asked, without deviating his sight from the file.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Every year, Anoka hosts a huge parade on Halloween day,” Spencer answered. Everyone could tell that this was something he knew and was excited about. “It's fascinating, in fact, Anoka was considered the Halloween Capital of the World until 2016. As you might think, Halloween is a huge thing for the community.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the deal between Anoka, Minnesota, and Halloween anyway?” I asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you asked, Vivian, back in the…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reid.” Prentiss interrupted, “We need to focus on this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so there’s a threat," Luke interjected. "it's Halloween…could it be just a joke? A prank, per se?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke’s question was something we were all wondering. We had been taken directly to the hangar after Penelope told us about the case. Hence, no one knew exactly what was going on except that it was urgent, and our boss Emily Prentiss thought it was worthy of our full attention and rush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Newbie, oh newbie," Penelope said playfully. "if it was just a prank, you guys wouldn’t be flying right now to Anoka, would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't think so, Penelope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, because two hours ago, during today’s first group at Anoka’s famous Haunted Mansion, something went really wrong. By really wrong, I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>horribly</span>
  </em>
  <span> wrong—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penelope’s voice sounded cracked; this was really serious then. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brace yourselves with the images.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked down at the tablet I was holding; it contained the case’s file, including the pictures and a video. At first glance, it seemed like a regular haunted mansion, but when I looked further into it, I just couldn’t un-see it. The blood, the corpses, the severed members, the blades, and the traps were all real. It was a nightmare come to life. I could hear their screams and pleads for help and to make it stop, but it didn’t. It made zero sense, it was supposed to be only a game ride, pure entertainment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The jet’s environment was tense. We were all trying to take in what our eyes were looking at. It didn’t seem real. No. We did not want it to be real. It was too gory, gruesome, and inhuman to be real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked up and realized that everyone was probably feeling their stomach’s turn as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did this happen?” I asked</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are these…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sweet doctor,” Responded Penelope softly. “These are some of the members of today’s morning group and some of the actors, along with some unidentified body parts. We are already running their prints and DNA, let’s hope we get a match somewhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“14 dead and 8 injured. How can 14 people die in less than 15 minutes just like that without anyone noticing?” I questioned once more, feeling like I was missing something. No one else looked as confused as I did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All the traps, blades, and props were changed into real ones. That way, when the ride began, it was just a matter of luck that the real traps wouldn’t get you at some point.” Prentiss explained. “The mansion is actually really modern, it's s all controlled remotely, and it's designed like that to keep the experience as real as possible. It has cameras inside it. Unfortunately, they only activate during the rides.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, there is not a recording of last night, which means we don’t know who altered the Haunted Mansion.” Rossi inferred, to which Prentiss agreed, “Why didn’t the crew check the house before beginning today’s rides?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The mansion has been working fine for about a week, thanks to their very advanced system that Prentiss told you about. They only need to run a quick system scan, and it didn’t show any of the physical alterations made to it,” Penelope explained. “I am currently trying to retrieve something, anything that could give us a clue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t they leave as soon as the first trap was activated?” JJ inquired, “I mean…in the video you can clearly see the first victim bleeding like crazy from the jugular.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I get why they didn’t leave at the first sign,” Spencer interrupted.  “Picture it, everyone; you are at this haunted mansion on Halloween day, ready to have fun and have some good scares. The doors close, and a few seconds in, someone screams, and through the darkness, you can barely see the blood. It may be just another actor. The second trap comes in, this time the victim is someone you know, you see the blood, you hear the screams, and you start screaming for help as well, but the rest of the group doesn’t know that you and your friend aren’t a part of the show too. It would take at least half of the visitors to be affected somehow by the real traps for the rest to notice that something is definitely off and that it isn’t part of the show.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way Spencer narrated what might have crossed the victims’ minds gave me goosebumps. I imagined myself in a situation like that where you have no idea about what is real and what is not; you cannot see a thing. Therefore, you are a sitting duck, just waiting for your turn. God, I knew Halloween was meant to be creepy and scary, but this was way past that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about the actors? They must have known what was real and what was not,” JJ pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were all dead within seconds. They were all positioned near and were killed instantly by the traps. Except for this one, Leonard Sinclair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leonard’s picture popped on the jet’s screen. He looked young and sporty. According to his file, he was 17 years old, was a senior at Anoka’s public high school, and was going to go to UCLA the following year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s our hero, he noticed that something was off. He ran to the group from his position at the end to guide them to the emergency exit.” Rossi said, looking at the young man’s picture. “He is a hell of a lucky guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not. The final half of the mansion isn’t altered at all. The first half is the one made into a torture chamber,” Spencer said. “He was safe all along. That’s smart if you asked me. I mean, it was obvious that the emergency exit was going to be the victims’ first option to leave, they would’ve never finished the tour. Why bother altering the second half? It is too risky, more time, and more material.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why didn’t the unsub block the emergency exit?” Luke asked,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because! Think a little, Alvez!” Spencer said. “Even if the crew doesn’t check all the traps and systems every single day before every single tour, they always check the emergency door. It would’ve been a waste of time to block it to waste more time altering the rest of the haunted mansion when you actually have an endgame at the Grand Day Parade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I thought that maybe the rest of us were a little taken aback with the crudeness of it all. But Spencer was right. It would've been a waste of time to modify the whole haunted house if there was something bigger going on later. This was just a warning about how serious that threat to Anoka PD was. Plus, the first half of the haunted mansion was enough to kill 14 people and injure 8.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And that's exactly why we need to find this unsub. Right now we need to focus on absolutely everything, a good profile is the only thing that is going to help us catch this guy before the Grand Day Parade," Prentiss said. "understanding everything is essential. We have six hours and thirty-seven minutes before the parade begins, so let's get to work."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We all agreed, feeling motivated and driven enough to catch the bastard who did that thanks to the short but efficient motivational speech our chief gave us. I felt like I had a firecracker in my butt, ready to explode at any second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry to be the one bringing all the bad news all the time, but the video of the slaughtering at the Haunted Mansion just leaked, it is all over the media…people don't seem to notice that it is real!" Penelope cried in frustration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, take it down, Garcia." Prentiss ordered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"On it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, Penelope signed off, probably to work her magic as fast as she could to prevent the video from spreading further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was not good. It would give the unsub the attention he was craving and would only fuel him to go ahead with whatever his big plan for the Grand Day Parade was. For the first time since the briefing began, I dared to take a sip of my coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There was another letter left in the Mansion, it was found underneath one of the Jack O' Lanterns at the emergency door. That's why we know this event is connected to the threat Anoka PD received yesterday." Prentiss explained. "Reid, I want you working with the original letter and the one found at the Haunted Mansion, check if they were actually written by the same person if so, try to figure out as much as possible, if it was written by a male or female, how old, social group, education level, you know. JJ and Vivian, I want you girls to work with victimology. I know it sounds overwhelming since we have a total of 22 victims that seem random, but believe me, they are not as random as they seem, trust me, there must be a tie somewhere, find it. Rossi, Alvez, you get the crime scene, check for anything Anoka PD might have missed. I will work closely with Anoka PD to take the appropriate measures regarding today's festivities." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed as if delegating tasks was extremely tiring. It probably was, but we were all clueless about the actual process of her deciding who did what. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know how you guys are feeling," she continued. "This seems like a lot to do in very little time, and yes, each of you has different assignments, but please remember we are a team. Use each other, work together. We have all different abilities, and this is the case when we get to appreciate and use every single one of them. Let's catch this bastard."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. 15: Visiting Places where Horrifying Things Happened is Juvenile</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This case was messy. Not only because of the chaos at the crime scene but also, the victimology was all over the place. We had 25 people involved, 22 of them either injured or dead. We had a lot of people to look into, and I was beginning to feel dizzy after reviewing all those names and faces. JJ and I were really trying to make the best out of our task; finding a connection was going to make the most significant difference in the case.</p><p>Victimology wasn't something I particularly liked. It involved speaking to the deceased families and loved ones, something I found to be extremely hard to do without feeling all sorts of drowning emotions. I also needed to be really careful with my choice of words, something I wasn't used to doing. Speaking with a victim's family required a certain finesse that I was still having trouble with. I wondered how long it took Spencer to adapt to this; he was even more socially awkward than I was.</p><p>Since victimology wasn't my strong suit, this case very quickly increased in difficulty for me. The 11 survivors and families of the 14 victims all needed to be interviewed in a short time frame. Thankfully, Luke and Rossi agreed to visit the survivors in the hospital for us, taking at least a little bit of the load off our shoulders.</p><p>It was a circus inside Anoka's police station. Everyone was trying to figure out what the hell happened and how they could prevent whatever was supposed to happen at the Grand Day Parade without canceling it. The parade cancellation was something Prentiss actually supported since she believed that canceling the parade would only infuriate our unsub even more. She thought it would lead him to attack somewhere we didn't have a head start. Either that, or he was going to lay low, and our chances of catching him would be reduced to zero. The people in Anoka would then have to live knowing that some sick psycho was out there, living among them, waiting for the FBI to lose interest before striking again.</p><p>Spencer had been re-reading both of the threat letters for a very long time, and I could already tell that he was frustrated.</p><p>"This makes no sense." He finally said, tossing the letters onto the table in front of him with a frustrated grunt.</p><p>JJ and I looked away from our own files, posing our eyes on him. </p><p>"It feels very forced,' he continued. "Like it was written by multiple persons, but the calligraphy is persistent. I mean, the two letters were written by the same person from start to end, but the vocabulary flitches from formal to colloquial in each paragraph."</p><p>"It makes sense, one sole person could not have done all of that by himself.," Prentiss pointed out. "But I get what you're saying. It's like those group essays in which everyone does their part at home, then they paste it all together in a document without even reading what each other wrote."</p><p>"It is not that obvious though, you had to be an excellent linguist to notice," Spencer gloated. "However, I believe this was written by someone young. Maybe under 21. Definitely male. By the number of ideas…I think we are looking at a team of at least four people."</p><p>Four people were involved in writing the letters. Four people had turned the Haunted Mansion into some kind of sick medieval trap, and four were about to do God knows what in at the parade.</p><p>The parade was supposed to start in just a couple of hours, and we had way less than we would like to. Rossi and Luke joined us seconds later, looking tired and clueless. I was betting that they couldn't get much from the injured victims. We had no real connection between them more than the obvious; they all lived near each other, and most of them had gone to or were still attending Anoka's public high school.</p><p>"Do we have any viable suspects?" Prentiss questioned, "anything? People, we are against the clock here."</p><p>"I keep thinking about Leonard Sinclair. He was completely safe and dodged every single trap…" JJ insisted. "He fits the age range."</p><p>My mind was working at ludicrous speed, trying to think about someone or something that stood out, anything that could help. Then it hit me. Something Spencer had said before was bugging me still.</p><p>"I know we are short on time, but we are already grasping at straws, so I might as well say it," I mumbled, surprisingly catching my teammates' attention. "It's something Reid said earlier about how this was supposed to be the world's Halloween capital until suddenly in 2016 it wasn't anymore—"</p><p>"It was not sudden. it took Orlando a lot of time and money to take that title away from here," Spencer answered.</p><p> I was happy to see that he was getting what I was going for. He continued,</p><p>"But you're right. When they gave Orlando, Florida the title, this town's economy plummeted. A lot of these people live off merchandise and special events during this time of the year. Hotel owners, restaurants…Many families suffered an economic crisis due to that. Imagine that your little town is losing money and popularity from the one thing it had been known for to some big companies' theme parks. Not to mention, in an already exploited and rich city. Good job, Vivian."</p><p>How dare he? This was <em>my</em> thing, I thought of it first, and he just went with it in front of the team. At least he congratulated me, but again, it felt as if his inner teacher had taken over, and all of a sudden, I was nothing else but his student. It bothered me. I was trying to convince myself that he didn't mean to be demeaning, it was only natural for him to treat me like I was still learning from him. Oh, but that meant he still believed I was a rookie and needed to be reassured all the time. Argh. Why did I care so much about whatever he thought about me? He wasn't my boss, Prentiss was. I should be more worried about what she thought. Maybe it was because of something else…something related to me developing feelings for him. What was I thinking? No. It couldn't be it. Spencer was just a childish crush, nothing else.</p><p>I could see my team deliberating, but I could not hear them. My head was in another place, as I was staring at Spencer. He was wearing a soft burgundy cardigan over a plain grayish button-up, a navy blue tie loose in his neck, and his messy hair tucked behind his ears. He was talking fast, using his hands to express himself. Further, his hazel eyes filled with excitement due to the conclusions we were getting to. He was extremely passionate. Passionate about his job, about solving murders and catching bad guys. I could feel it in my bones, in every single hair of my body just by looking at him, it gave me thrills. I was astonished by him once more, but he didn't even notice that he couldn't blame him though, he was actually focusing on what was important at the time.</p><p>"Right, Vivian?" his voice reaching my ears. "Don't you think that it's juvenile behavior to visit places where horrifying things happened?"</p><p>"Yes," I answered, not really sure about what his question meant and cared very little to figure it out. I only wanted to know if he noticed at some point that I was staring at him while he ranted. I felt foolish.</p><p>"See…these teens just want their town to be relevant again, these murders and whatever is going to happen at the parade doesn't have a deeper meaning than that," Spencer continued. "It makes sense, the letters were written by young people, guys come on!"</p><p>"I don't know Reid, it seems a little far fetched." Prentiss pointed out as she shook her head.</p><p>Spencer sat, he had stood up while debating with the team but was tired now. He was not very good at hiding his annoyance, so naturally, everyone noticed. JJ began to look at her files frantically as if Spencer's comments sparked an idea. She finally found what she was looking for, her eyes glowing as if she was staring at diamonds.</p><p>"Elsy Gatell."</p><p>"What?" Luke asked, just as confused as the rest of us.</p><p>"Elsy Gatell, she's one of our victims…she was 17. When Penelope and I were checking her social media, we found a fascinating post. She was bashing her ex-boyfriend for being too creepy, very into horror movies, and how he felt they weren't realistic enough or something along those lines." She explained. "We didn't think much more about it because it seemed like your regular butt hurt teenager, but now…maybe we should check her ex. She also posted a picture of her and Grace Smith at brunch, saying they were heading for the Haunted Mansion."</p><p>"I'll call Garcia." It took longer for Luke to press Penelope's speed dial than for her to answer. "Give it all to me, precious."</p><p>I couldn't help but laugh at his very wrong timing. Luke grinned as well and gave me a short look as if we shared some kind of inside joke, but we didn't, at least not concerning Penelope. The rest of the team did not look as amused as we were, maybe they were all already used to hearing those sorts of replies and greetings, at least I wasn't.</p><p>"Garcia…"</p><p>"Oh, it's you. What do you want, Alvez?"</p><p>"We need info on Elsy Gatell's ex-boyfriend," Luke said, sweetness in his tone.</p><p>"Just a second…" She responded. As usual, we were all able to hear her hard typing on the other side of the line. "Bingo. So…Raul Johnson, 17, a member of the cinema and horror club. He is going to Toronto's Film School next year. He has posted several rants about how Anoka was supposed to be Halloween's capital of the world. He would frequently blame, curse, and talk trash about big companies like Disney and Universal for ruining them, particularly his parent's little bed and breakfast."</p><p>"Well, he definitely sounds motivated enough," Rossi pointed out. "Is he smart enough to pull this off, though."</p><p>"What about his friends?" Spencer interrupted, "Look carefully into his close circle of acquaintances. We are looking for a team."</p><p>Silence followed his words, the only sound in the room was Penelope's fingers smashing against her keyboard. I looked up to the wall clock, a little less than two hours until the parade, we had to work fast. I prayed we were on the right track.</p><p>"A-ha!" She exclaimed. "Chuck Higgins, Samuel Landor, and Victor Wright. These guys all share a group chat with Raul Johnson, where they discuss the Orlando vs. Anoka issue and horror movies. What caught my eye is that they all participate in different clubs that could easily contribute to the thing that happened in the Haunted Mansion. Higgins is in the tech club with Samuel, who, just like our very own doctor Reid, is going to MIT next year. Victor is on top of his woodshop class. Guess what? Leonard Sinclair is in the same class."</p><p>"We got geeky boys and crafty boys, this is all circumstantial guys." Prentiss expressed, she was scared and frustrated, something unnatural happened to her. Seeing her like that worried me. It meant that something was off. "We need more."</p><p>I squinted my eyes as if doing that I would automatically think faster. My brain was going as fast as a race car, trying to bring all the pieces together. I looked at the board, many faces, many names, and many ages. If the guys had done it, then they must have made a mistake at some point.</p><p>"The severed members," JJ's words popped out of her mouth. "Did all of them matched with the victims' corpses?"</p><p>It was evident that we were all clutching on straws. Penelope answered with a simple 'yes.' </p><p>JJ sighed. "Anything else on them?"</p><p>"No, but a crime scene investigation found a partial print on one of the blades, but couldn't find any match at any database," Penelope said.</p><p>"Elections," I blurted out. "I read in a victim's file that she was a moderator at this year's school elections. They wanted them to be modern yet safe, so they developed a system where students had to register using their fingerprint so they wouldn't vote more than once. It was actually really interesting…"</p><p>"Vivian." Luke stopped me from rambling.</p><p>I felt embarrassed, and soon after realized that that must be the way Spencer felt almost all the time. It was harsh because all of the team members were staring at me, annoyed that I didn't cut to the chase. It made me feel kind of unwanted, even though I knew they would never mean it. How could Spencer deal with that? I sighed before continuing.</p><p>"My point is," I continued, emphasizing that I was getting to the point. "that maybe these kids' fingerprints are there in the school's election program. It's not a public archive, so Penelope wouldn't have known about it. We would need to ask the school for them and then send them to forensics to compare them and hope they match."</p><p>"That's actually good," Rossi commented while padding my back softly comforting me. "I'll talk to the school principal. I think we should bring these kids in, just as a precaution."</p><p>"Yes, let's just say it is procedure since a fair amount of their classmates were either killed or injured during this event," Prentiss added. Her phone was already in her hand, ready to make some calls.</p><p>After half an hour, we managed to bring in four out of the five suspects, only missing Chuck Higgins, which to me, was the most significant threat. Due to his knowledge of tech stuff and systems, he could easily carry on with whatever they had planned to bash the Grand Parade. All of the young boys were at their homes when we arrived to pick them up, all except Chuck, whose mother told us he left about an hour prior. I was beginning to think that canceling the parade was a good idea. We had been focusing so much on getting a suspect that we had no clue whatsoever of what the attack was supposed to be. We had some ideas for sure, like a bomb, gas or acidic attack, even a shooting. The security at Anoka's main street where the parade was taking place was tight, looking into every tiny detail that may look suspicious. All cars were checked meticulously to avoid any malfunction of any sort, and b cops were aware that Chuck Huggins was a potential suspect. They were prepared for the worst, but still, I felt very nervous.</p><p>I turned around to meet Spencer's hazel eyes, he smiled softly and nodded to reassure me, and to reassure himself. Everyone else on time was busy conducting interviews with Samuel, Leonard, Raul, and Victor, who didn't cooperate as expected. We were going about nothing. Where the hell was Penelope with the forensics results? It took Dave almost an hour, but he had managed to get the guys' prints from the school election system; now, forensics was processing them to get a match. Spencer and I were on fingerprint duty, waiting helplessly for the results.</p><p>"What is taking so long with the prints?" He cried stressfully, looking at his wristwatch.</p><p>"I don't know," I mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "It's just been fifteen minutes since they began processing it. It should take another ten minutes, they got a partial print, remember, it is harder to analyze."  </p><p>I shrugged my shoulders, trying to remain calm, I noticed his fingers fidgeting, he was getting anxious. </p><p>"Let's not focus on that," I changed the subject. "let's think about something else…like, did you have a costume planned for tonight?"</p><p>"Seriously? We are in the middle of something here." Spencer said, exacerbated. </p><p>"You're impatient, time will only go slower if you focus on it. So, tell me, what was it? A wizard? Dr. Who? Oh, I got it! <em>A black cat</em>."</p><p>"A cat?" He raised his brows and let a little laugh leave his lips. "No, I actually was planning on dressing as Yoshi."</p><p>I couldn't help but grimace at the idea of him dressed as Yoshi from the Nintendo saga for Halloween. It did not feel <em>Spencer-y</em>. It made me wonder how little I actually knew about him. He probably noticed my bewilderment because he explained further.</p><p>"JJ was going as Peach, Henry as Mario and little Michael as Luigi."</p><p>Ah, that's right... he was supposed to go trick or treating with JJ and her kids. I found myself feeling jealous of it, of the whole idea of him accompanying them as if they were a family. I knew that they were close but not <em>that</em> close. I was figuring out what to answer without sounding too judgy or even jealous of them when my phone sounded, and the screen lit. It was an email with the results.</p><p>"We got a match!" I screamed happily.</p><p>"Thank God, whose?"</p><p>"Samuel Landor. Let's tell the rest."</p><p>We rushed to pass on the new information to Prentiss, who immediately used it against Samuel. It was a matter of seconds before he cracked open, spilling almost everything. Samuel's narrative involved all of our initial suspects. It gave us enough to put them all under arrest and impound their computers, including Chuck's. It had access to the system that remotely controlled the Haunted Mansion, and another one with increasing numbers. The second one had to be the endgame, the big event at the Grand Parade.</p><p>Thirty minutes until the parade began. All the time was finally on the same page, we were all agreeing that our top priority was getting Chuck and stopping whatever he had planned. As I was collocating the stiff bulletproof best over my torso, my mind kept flickering away onto another place. I found myself thinking about Spencer. Focus Vivian, focus. Just like in class, this lack of attention <em>was on him</em>, not on me. It was his fault for being him. A gentle pad on my shoulder provided by Rossi was enough for me to know that it was time to go.</p><p>Once again, I was holding for dear life onto one of the SUV's handles on the backseat while Luke drove manically. This time JJ was at the front passenger seat with us. As soon as we arrived, we exited the vehicle and began to look around casually into the crowd looking for Chuck. However, it probably didn't look as casual as we wanted due to our FBI vests and guns. We were all connected to each other via a hearing piece, including Penelope. She was giving us constant updates about trying to turn down the second running program in Chuck's computer.</p><p>"The heck with it, I am going to ask someone if they've seen Chuck," Prentiss announced.</p><p>He followed her lead and began asking the same thing to whoever crossed our ways. I didn't notice when it happened, but out of the blue, I was no longer near any of my teammates.</p><p>"Got eyes on him," I heard Rossi say though my earpiece. "Can't shoot him; if that software is doing something, we need him to stop it. He's north the street, eleven o'clock from JJ's position."</p><p>"Understood."</p><p>I twirled on my feet, trying to orient myself in the middle of a blob of people in an unknown street to me. Then I saw him, he was sitting behind a big tree just where Rossi said he was. I was the furthest from him but still managed to see the young guy run away at the sight of Luke approaching him.</p><p>"We got a runner!"</p><p>For the next few seconds, I was able to hear my coworkers' heavy breaths as they tried to catch him following by foot. I did the same, it didn't matter that he was really far away from me. <em>Cardio, man</em>, I needed to work harder on that. Then I finally heard a crash and something breaking, it sounded crunchy like some branches…I just hoped they weren't bones, bones didn't sound like that? Did they? I couldn't have known, I had never broken any bones before. </p><p>It took me a couple of minutes to reach the rest of the team, they were all surrounding Chuck trying to make him stop the system. The numbers on it were reaching its highest potential, meaning it was near getting there. Chuck was not very collaborative, and I was beginning to lose my patience, holding hard onto my gun. I felt my skin burning and not because I was hot; in fact, I was freezing, but that kid's attitude made me want to slap him repeatedly.</p><p>"Done! Done, done, done." I heard Penelope squeak all the way from Virginia. "I got to stop it, and now I am taking it down. Do you or don't you love me very very much, eh?"</p><p>"So it is over? It is permanently shut down?" Prentiss asked loudly enough for Chuck to hear, and boy…his face was <em>priceless</em>. "Great. Thank you, Garcia."</p><p>"You are very welcome, beautiful lady. Now imma let you go ahead and keep doing your job excellently."</p><p>I stopped clutching on my gun, finally letting myself to breathe deeply. Looking around, I could see they were all feeling the same thing. It was kind of amazing to watch everyone's visage going from anxious, severe, and harsh FBI agents to their regular selves. Luke and Rossi took Chuck over to a nearby car patrol.</p><p>"Out of curiosity, what was your big plan?" I asked, standing by the car's window. </p><p>He already had his rights read, so he knew that he could not answer if he did not want to, but I still tried.</p><p>"You're pretty," he said grinning.</p><p>"Thanks, I guess...?" I cringed.</p><p>"I'll tell you, you see those lamps?" He pointed out the street lighting. "Over the past few months, my friends and I have been filling them with surprises…it goes from bovine blood to acid. It was meant to be a true horror fest, miss." He said, his eyes shining with excitement. "The software was supposed to trigger tiny explosions in the circuits that should've caused the lamps' glasses to break, releasing the fun."</p><p>I turned around, Prentiss was behind me, she had been listening to the whole thing. I was perplexed that he and his friends decided to make something out of a real horror movie, all so Anoka would be relevant again during Halloween. I sure had no idea what he went through, what pushed him to do it, and what drove those other four kids to follow. Regarding nature vs. nurture, I was always keen on upbringing, with specs of innate nature in certain specific cases, and my B.A. in psychology backed it up. Tonight I just felt lucky. Luckily I grew in a loving home in a small picturesque port in Florida with amazing friends, caring people, pets, financial stability, and an overall stable environment. I didn't have any obstacles to get what I wanted. I never had to fight really hard for anything, it was mostly given to me… I was blessed, genuinely privileged.</p><p>I didn't realize I was speechless until the patrol car drove away with Chuck in it, and I was still standing like a statue.</p><p>"Let's go," Prentiss said, clasping her hands on my shoulders. "If we leave now, maybe I can make it to my plans."</p><p>The loud music, cheers, and laughter announced the commencement of the Grand Day Parade, which would be an enjoyable occasion thanks to us.</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. 16: Leather Pants and Playing the Part.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was in a good mood. I felt amazing.</p><p>In lieu of Anoka's case getting to me in the wrong way, it opened my eyes. It made me realize how lucky I was. The things I was worrying about were nothing more than a whim from an indulged girl. Yes, I was having trouble catching up with my friends' "out of this world" achievements. However, I still had an incredible, well-paid job that I loved, new friends, a sweet, caring dog, and a nice apartment, downtown DC. Just like Luke told me during my times of crisis, I was having my own kind of success, and I was finally coming to terms with it.</p><p>Dating wise…that was still a problem. However, it was a problem that rested in the back of my mind, only surfacing when I really had nothing else to think about. Overall, it helped a little that I was going out more frequently, meeting people and giving them a chance. Still, love was nothing I could force on anyone, and it wasn't something I could rush or control. The connection had to happen on its own. </p><p>Not to mention, I was dealing with my stupid little crush on my former teacher and colleague, Spencer. </p><p>I was trying to persuade myself that the healthiest thing to do was letting it go and stop caring so much since it was only platonic. I liked the idea of him, not him. Yeah. That was it.</p><p>Nevertheless, I was very content with the best bits of my life. I was walking on air, dancing at my own confidence anthem, and exuding my newly raised self-esteem through every pore on my body. I even dared to wear black tight leather pants and a navy blue chiffon long-sleeved blouse to work, along with a bold dark lip. It was in the nude range, but I felt like I was rocking it. I was dressing according to my recently embraced status of success.</p><p>I would have marched the FBI's corridors as if they were fashion week's catwalks if I wasn't late to work. At the end of the lobby, I saw the metal doors of the lift closing slowly. I forced myself to reach the elevator before it was too late to catch it and had to wait for the next one. A hand popped from the metal box between the sealing gates. I rushed, trying not to be rude and make the other person wait longer.</p><p>"Thank you so much," I acknowledged the kind action as I finally entered the elevator, meeting Spencer, who had stopped it. "Oh, hi, Spencer."</p><p>"Good morning, Vivian," he answered in his regular calmed fashion.</p><p>We stood there in silence, me glancing at him every couple of seconds hoping to watch him stare at me, I was wearing tight leather pants after all, but he did not stare. I scolded myself for wanting him to look. It shouldn't have bothered me if he did not notice my daring outfit, he was not very observant when it came to trivial things such as clothing.</p><p>The doors opened on the sixth floor, both of us exiting without saying anything at all. He let me out first, like the true gentleman he was, and I smiled at him softly as a way of thanking him. He did the same with the BAU's glass doors. I navigated the office, followed by Spencer, until we got to our desks. Our desks butted up to one another, so it was not a big deal. </p><p>Both of us began to settle, Spencer taking off his coat and leaving his satchel on top of the desk, as I left my purse and leaned to turn on the computer just as I did every morning.</p><p>"Nice booty," Penelope said loudly enough for everyone else within a twenty-meter radius to turn around. She went on, caring less than a little about the unwanted attention her comment sparked. "I always knew you were fit, but man, this is…"</p><p>I turned to face her, uncomfortable laughter leaving my lips to interrupt her so she couldn't say anything further. I was used to being complimented about my looks every now and then, I would typically feel flattered, but today I felt a little embarrassed. I was keen to believe that it was due to Spencer being there.</p><p>My dear blonde friend was carrying two mugs of coffee; her regular octopus mug and a plain black one. She offered me the black cup, which I happily took.</p><p>"Thank you, this is what you get with Mexican parents and long walks in the park with your very enthusiastic golden retriever."</p><p>"Right now, I really wish that Garcia was more of a phenotype than just a last name, I'm jealous." She lamented herself.</p><p>I laughed with her for a few seconds before Prentiss announced there was a brief meeting at the conference room in 5 minutes. Penelope left my side after hearing this since it took her a fair amount of time to get to the briefing room while wearing those big red high heels she usually rocked. I watched her go as I drank the latte she had offered me prior. I saw out of the corner of my eye how Spencer stood up from his chair, he took a few steps.</p><p>"You look nice," He said with almost a whisper, his voice had cracked at the beginning of the word 'you.'</p><p>I could tell how hard it was for him to say those words just by looking at his face and body language. Even with his hands stuffing his pants' pockets, I could see that he was fidgeting. Still, his hazel eyes were trying to meet mine. My heart skipped a beat even though it shouldn't have, it was just that…after feeling like I wasn't enough for him for a long time, this dumb comment about my appearance elated me.</p><p>I've heard him complimenting my profiling skills, my ideas, thoughts, and overall intellectuality as well as some specific taste in movies before, but never my appearance. At least not in an environment where he didn't feel obliged to say something like it happened after I got stood up, and he tried to console me. Hearing the words "you look nice" somehow felt better than being praised by Spencer Reid for being smart.</p><p>Spencer's mechanism of judging people was the complete opposite of most. He focused on the interior rather than the exterior; if he liked what he perceived from the inside then, he would move on with the surface. It was great to be extolled because of intelligence since it was what he cared about above anything else. Still, for the same reason, it was the first thing he looked into when getting to know someone. His comments on how nice I looked meant that he decided that it was worth it to see beyond brains and finally care about looks. It also meant that he checked out my butt.</p><p>I repressed a soft giggle that threatened to leave my lips at the idea of him looking at my butt. I did not want Spencer to feel more awkward than I guessed he already felt.</p><p>"Thanks," I said, smiling slightly.</p><p>"I…"</p><p>"Reid, Contreras. Care to join us?" Luke shouted all the way from the briefing's room door.</p><p>I responded with a loud "coming!" and began to walk towards the rest of the team. Spencer was just a few steps behind me. Once I reached the room, I stood tightly. I gathered that it wasn't a case briefing since none of my teammates were sitting around the table like they usually did when we were assigned a case. This was a dash more casual.</p><p>"Good morning, everyone. First of all, no, we don't have a case other than the ones we are already consulting in. so unwind yourselves, please." </p><p>Prentiss said as if she could read minds, but again, she kind of did. Well, not exactly our minds, but our body language and facial expressions. </p><p>"I wanted us to gather because our section chief, SES Mateo Cruz, has brought to my attention that the FBI's 110th-anniversary gala is just in a few weeks."</p><p>I took a glimpse around the room. None of my colleagues seemed impressed with the gala. I figured that a gala with all of our superior officers was not something appealing to the BAU. We were a unit that was frequently finding itself involved in sticky situations and creating polemic among the Bureau, due to our methods. </p><p>Some thought profiling was not a serious thing and that our funding was money being wasted. Some thought it was the best thing to ever happen to law enforcement. Either way, most felt that we, individually, were an erratic team with mentally unstable agents that somehow mastered getting away with our actions. To name a few, Spencer's unjustified shot to Dirk Henson, that time Luke killed the man who murdered his friend, Prentiss deleting evidence…</p><p>"None of you have RSVP." She added.</p><p>Even if the BAU's numbers were over the moon, and we were good solving cases and catching the worst of the worst, the most dangerous people on Earth, it felt like in some way we were the pariah in the FBI. I did not RSVP to the gala because I was confident that none of my teammates were going, and honestly, I couldn't bring myself to go without them. I was not going to fancy seeing my old unit chief or colleagues.</p><p>"Why do they want us to be there? Just to be questioned once more about every single thing that has happened in the last ten years?" JJ asked. "I get it is bureaucracy, but come on!"</p><p>"Yes, last time we went to an event like that, it was bad." Penelope pointed out, putting extra emphasis on the 'bad.' "I won't waste my best looks on that."</p><p>"I know it is not ideal, but we really need to attend this year. It is a big thing, the 110th anniversary of our workplace, plus…I am not supposed to mention it, but <em>fuck it</em>. " </p><p>Prentiss surprised us with her choice of words.</p><p>"It is also supposed to be in our honor and in homage to the Behavioral Analysis Unit."</p><p>Small laughter left my mouth without me, even noticing. It felt like a prank. Carrie gets invited to prom by the most popular guy in school, wins prom queen, and then gets humiliated in front of everyone by showering with pig's blood. I contained myself from laughing further and apologized at the sight of everyone else's rigid visage.</p><p>"Look, guys, I know what you are feeling and thinking. We have been the FBI's mockery for a really long time now, but Cruz told me this is supposed to be some sort of friendly push. To get our act together, but most importantly, it is supposed to remind everyone what we are, what we do, and what we have accomplished. We have an image problem within the Bureau itself, the few people who still believe in us beyond question, want to help us. This is the easiest fix, Prentiss continued explaining. "Listen…I know that we are not the bad guys here, that we just do our job as best as we can give the circumstances. But frankly, I don't think we can keep up playing as the malcontent child, not much longer. Linda Barnes already tried to take us out, and she almost succeeded." </p><p>For being early in the morning, Prentiss did not look fresh as usual. She seemed tired about the whole thing; bags under her eyes and slightly messed up hair. The words leaving her mouth were smooth and flowed as if she had been rehearsing them all night. Maybe she did. </p><p>"We excel at what we do, and it keeps shutting people up when they try to break us, but in this game, filled with bureaucracy, doing our job is not enough; we need to play the part when they ask us to."</p><p>I was aware that the BAU was one of the most conflicting units in the Bureau. Still, I wasn't conscious of how bad the situation actually was. This was a plea from our boss to just show up to a gala. It never crossed my mind how hard it was for Prentiss to carry the whole team and stand up to our superiors just to justify our actions all the time. Especially when the team often made choices with the heart and not the head. She was definitely drained from dealing with the same issue over and over again. By the way she expressed herself, it was apparent that she had put a lot of thought into it. It was evident that she came to the conclusion that just playing along with the higher ranks was the easiest way to solve the image problem. They wanted to feel like they had control over us, so we were going to let them.</p><p>"I'll go," Spencer said after a long pause from the rest. "You're right, we can't keep fighting a fight we can't win. It is pointless to risk the integrity of our team because of a gala."</p><p>"Thank you, Spence." She said, letting a long exhale leave her lungs.</p><p>"Yes, anything I can do to help. I don't like seeing you this upset."</p><p>"I'll go too," Luke replied.</p><p>"We will all go." Penelope intervened. "It is not fair for you to keep doing this for us. I kind of feel bad about everything…"</p><p>"Penelope, that's not the point, don't ever think that I am complaining about doing my job as the chief of our unit. It's quite the opposite." Prentiss interrupted. "I just don't want to have a Linda Barnes situation all over again. I want our unit to stay as it is, being free to choose. I'll gladly justify shots and arrests over and over again if it means that we get to make those decisions. For us to stay a team and keep our status, we need to keep our bosses happy, including the Director."</p><p>Ah yes, the Linda Barnes situation. I heard of it when it happened about a year prior. It was the only thing people could talk about for months. </p><p>The prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit being torn down to pieces by Assistant Director Linda Barnes. When I heard of it, I was in the forensic psychologist's division. I never thought I would be part of the actual BAU at some point, so I didn't pay much attention to the gossip. A year later, Penelope filled me in. It was like entering the twilight zone; JJ was unit chief, only Luke, and Matt Simmons remained as profilers. Emily was reassigned to Internal Affairs. Tara Lewis, my mentor, was assigned to HR. Spencer gave lessons at the Academy, and worst of all, Rossi was forced to retire.</p><p>In the end, the guys found out about a case Linda mishandled during her years as an investigator, managed to solve it, and in the process, save the senator's daughter. He was so grateful to the BAU that demanded the whole team to be reinstated.  He was one of the only people who heartedly believed in the BAU's work.</p><p>Prentiss was right; it was stupid to keep being the rebellious unit everyone rants about. They had dodged a bullet back then, but we could hardly avoid another one. Going to a gala just to be praised did not sound as bad now as it did at the beginning of the conversation. There were people out there who wanted us to succeed and to prove that we could play by the rules. We could not let them down.</p><p>"Of course." I finally spoke out loud.</p><p>Prentiss chuckled and smiled widely afterward. "Guys?"</p><p>"I've had this fancy suit in my closet for about six months now and I've been looking for an excuse to wear it, so, yes. I am going." Rossi said and nodded softly. "I'll be happy to collaborate with some bottles if that's ok."</p><p>"Sure thing!"</p><p>"Fine, but I'll be definitely dragging Will into this" JJ joked.</p><p>We all laughed, not exactly because her words were hilarious, but because we needed it to shake off the tension that had been ruling the briefing room. </p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. 17: The Ultimate Bachelor/Bachelorette Vehicle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>How come Reid isn't riding with us tonight?" </p><p>My dolled up friend, Penelope, asked as she abruptly turned around from her front seat in the black SUV we were in, making Luke, who was behind the wheel, to lose control of it for microseconds. </p><p>"This is the ultimate bachelor/bachelorette vehicle." She continued, unaware of what just happened. "He is still single, right?"</p><p>Prentiss, who was accompanying me in the back seat, was holding for dear life onto the car's window handle. She let a burst of soft nervous laughter escape her lips after the incident that almost costs us our lives.</p><p>"I don't think the way we are carpooling to the gala has anything to do with our relationships' status, Garcia."</p><p>"Mmm, I don't know Emily, it seems a little suspicious that we are all single and in the other car. There's JJ with Will, Rossi with his fiancée, Krystall, and Spencer."</p><p>Rossi had gotten engaged to Krystall about a month earlier, and they were planning the wedding in a rush. Rossi said that they didn't want to waste more time. They wanted to just tie the knot once more and live happily ever after, after all those years. I understood where he was coming from, Krystall was ex-wife number three. He'd already lost a precious amount of time being with the wrong people, and then with no one. They were older now, time was not going to stop or go slower, so they just wanted to live their love in full plenitude.</p><p>"Well, maybe he's got a date," Luke said.</p><p>"Or maybe he just likes JJ and Rossi better than us," Penelope added with a fake heartbroken tone of voice. </p><p>"Maybe his apartment is on Rossi's path rather than Luke's," I answered faster than I would've liked.</p><p>I just did not like the idea of Spencer having a date for the gala, less him actually having one. It was a friend thing, it had nothing to do with the tiny itty bit of a crush that I had on him. Nope.</p><p>The rest of the ride consisted of Luke and Penelope fighting about absolutely everything, from the radio station to the route he was taking. It was hilarious to see them both fight. It was like looking at two kids in elementary school struggling to show affection to each other because boys were "yucky," and girls had "cooties." I was pretty convinced that maybe Luke and Penelope weren't fond of each other in a romantic way, but they sure could become really close friends. At least, both of them were my closest friends at the BAU, so that had to mean something.</p><p>Prentiss seemed nervous, and I understood where she came from. This gala meant a lot for the team's credibility and, above all, hers. Anything could go easily wrong in an environment where we all felt cornered by the higher ranks of the FBI. She was betting on us, just as I did myself. It could not be that bad, but again, that was my first FBI gala I was not entirely sure of what to expect.</p><p>"Remember that this gala being in homage to the BAU is a secret, you'll need to act surprised when they call us on stage." She pointed out.</p><p>"Wait, what? We get to be onstage?" Penelope asked with a tint of joy in her voice. She was a showgirl, she liked the spotlight.</p><p>"Yeah, they will congratulate us for our job, mention some highlights and the relevance of the team."</p><p>"Do we need to give a speech or something?" Luke asked, watching my brunette colleague through the rear-view mirror.</p><p>"No, I will," Prentiss said. "You guys don't need to worry."</p><p>"We are seated together, right?" I asked, suddenly feeling nervous about the evening.</p><p>When I was in high school, I was one of the popular kids. Not the mean kids or the rich kids, just popular. Everyone knew who Vivian, Oscar, Addison, Polly, Henry, and Francis were— we stood out for various reasons. We were either known for being in student council, sports, art, academics, or throwing the greatest inclusive parties. We were the nice kids who said "hi" to everyone and stood up to the bullies. We were the full package.  </p><p>It sounded conceited, but everyone in school liked us and came to us all the time for anything. I was always surrounded by friends or people who liked me, so I never actually felt alone or insecure in a social environment. Until moving to D.C. for college and becoming an adult. What made me interested in high school was nothing extraordinary in real life.</p><p>This gala was the closest thing to an event that would be held at a high school, like maybe a prom. When we all agreed on going, I felt comfortable with the idea of being back to prom, getting back my crown, because yes, I was the Class of 2008's Prom Queen, and Oscar was my king. But now that the event was near, just a few minutes away, unexpected anxiety took over me. This was not going to be a prom. This was an FBI gala, with significant people, and grown adults who don't find skipping class cool or adding pasta to the cafeteria's menu as a fantastic achievement. They were my bosses, my colleagues, and it was something entirely work-related. My pals at the BAU were the only thing that would've helped me bare the entire night.</p><p>"Yes, we are Viv," Prentiss answered with a small nod to reassure me, as she usually did during cases when I had doubts.</p><p>"Is everyone within the Bureau going?" I asked.</p><p>"Why, aren't you thrilled to see your former team?" Luke teased, fully knowing that I wasn't. I gave him a 'you're not funny' look, and he apologized, "Sorry, but I just don't get what's the big deal."</p><p>"It is not a big deal," I said, a hint of annoyance in my tone. "I just prefer to not run into my former boss. Alright?"</p><p>"Oh, Samuel Carson. Heard of him, he's tough." Prentiss added with a soft wince.</p><p>"He is not just tough. He is a <em>machista </em>pig who would never trust me or give me any important assignments. He almost made me quit."</p><p>"Oh, sweetie…" Penelope mumbled. "that's not right, people like that shouldn't be allowed in the FBI."</p><p>"What made you stay?" Luke questioned.</p><p>I sighed, trying to organize the ideas in my head and summarize them as much as I could. I hated the forensic psychologist's division after Tara Lewis left, and I had a hard time working there. I managed to convince myself that being an FBI agent was the thing I had worked for my entire life, and there was no way I would've let Samuel Carson win.</p><p>"I always wanted to be in law enforcement, but my parents were not big fans of me being a cop. They said it was too dangerous and that I had more potential than that, they wanted me to go to college, learn stuff…so I chose to join the FBI. It's the best of both worlds. In the beginning, I thought that I was meant to be at the forensic psychologist's division for the rest of my career; Agent Carson pushed me to find something else,"</p><p>I shrugged my shoulders as if it wasn't important.</p><p>"It took quite some time, but I learned to see it that way. I love justice too much to let this opportunity go just because of a fully grown jerk."</p><p>"And that's exactly why you belong with us," Prentiss affirmed, placing her hand over mine and squeezing it tenderly. </p><p>I smiled at her as a thank you. This was the work environment that I always dreamed of. I had only been a part of the team for a little less than six months, and they were all willing to do anything to have my back. It felt like the family I was missing in D.C., And also, I loved how Prentiss was a true leader, not just a boss.</p><p>The car began to slow down, and I gradually realized we were already at the hotel where the gala was being held. Luke had inserted the SUV at the valet parking's line, waiting for the car to be parked by someone else so we could enter the gala on time, before the big announcement was made.</p><p>"Just got a text from JJ, they are at the lobby waiting for us." Penelope averted us. "Can you go any faster, newbie?"</p><p>"Sure thing, Garcia, let me just smash the car against the one in front and cause a major vehicle collision." He answered with a grin; she punched him on the shoulder, making him groan. "Relax, they can wait for us a couple of minutes…see? We are already here."</p><p>Prentiss and I laughed at them for a short amount of time. The valet parking crew opened the car's doors, letting us out. I stumbled a little after exiting the car since I was wearing high heels. I knew how to walk in them, but the first steps after sitting for a long time were always tricky. Prentiss took my arm, and we helped each other get to the lobby considering she was also wearing high heeled shoes.</p><p>I felt appropriate and glamorous in my shiny charmeuse emerald green, demi-slip dress. It had some definition at my waist, which I appreciated, a straight neckline with thin spaghetti straps and a slit that went up to my left thigh. My makeup was light with some golden tones to complement my brown complexion, and my hair was in a low bun.</p><p>All of our shoes made a clicking noise when we took a step over the marble floor of the lobby. I was more concerned about how annoying the sound was than the rest of the team standing in front of me, including Spencer. He looked really handsome in a simple black tuxedo and a matching bow tie. The missing members were chatting with each other but stopped at our arrival.</p><p>Everyone looked great, JJ in her tight silver dress, Penny with an A-line bright pink gown, Prentiss rocking black with a classy flowy robe and the guys dazzling everyone with either fancy suits or tuxedos. We greeted each other with short hugs and kisses. Various whistles and compliments flew in the air as we first saw each other dressed up in such an elegant manner.</p><p>I felt how Spencer was staring at me, but I guessed it was just because he hadn't had a chance to say hello. Everyone was getting in the way of us as they saluted each other as if years had passed since the last time we saw each other. I had a big smile on my face, just like everyone else on the team. This was a happy moment, a reminder of how human we all were, how vulnerable and how working on our appearance helped with feeling a little better, or put together. When Spencer finally managed to get close to me, he gave me a hug like the one he gave my other teammates. </p><p>"You are beautiful, truly." He said without any hesitation, a smile still in his face.</p><p>"Thank you, Reid," I responded, trying to keep my cool at his seemingly genuine compliment. "You don't look so bad yourself, I like the bowtie."</p><p>"is nice, isn't it?"</p><p>"Where's Krystall, Rossi? I thought you said she was coming." Penelope said loudly enough to unify all of our little small talks.</p><p>I looked around trying to find her, but just as Penelope said, she was not there.</p><p>"She couldn't make it, her daughter Portia has been having some trouble since her breakup, so Krystall stayed with her to support her." He explained. "But hey, I will not lack a dancing partner, all of you ladies, owe me a dance."</p><p>Our laughter was interrupted by our boss's voice. SES Mateo Cruz approached us, he was already carrying a glass of what I thought was champagne.</p><p>"The BAU does know how to clean up nicely," He said, grinning.</p><p>"Thank you, Matt," JJ answered to her close friend. Cruz shook her husband's Will hand and then gave JJ a kiss on her cheek. "You look nice."</p><p>"You don't have to praise me, I am already on you guys' side." He added, raising his glass to us. "Shall we head in? The celebration is about to begin. I'll show you your table."</p><p>We all nodded in agreement, ready to enter the ballroom where almost every agent in the D.C. area and the higher ranks of other quarters around the country were.</p><p>"Shall we?" Rossi asked Prentiss as he gave him his arm for her to hold.</p><p>Oh, so we were heading in pairs? All right. I turned around to reach for Luke's arm but found out Penelope was already with him. I opened my mouth to protest since they were fighting minutes earlier, and Luke was my best friend, not hers, I should've been the one on Luke's arm, not her. Ultimately, I decided not to tease them just so I didn't make them feel uncomfortable around everyone else. JJ was holding onto Will, which made sense because they were the only real couple in the group. That left Spencer and me as the only ones needing a pair.</p><p>I approached him after toying with the idea of going in with him, or on my own. Concluded that it was way more awkward if we didn't pair up like the rest.</p><p>"Dr. Reid," I said, giving him a slight smile.</p><p>"Miss…Agent Contreras," He corrected, returning my smile.</p><p>I stared into his hazel eyes for just a moment before grabbing his arm.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. 18: A Sad and Pathetic Story</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The ballroom was decorated elegantly as if the FBI spared no expense for the event. For a moment, I thought we would be on display as we entered, but the rest of the guests simply minded their own business, not so much as giving us a glance as we weaved in and out of the tables. I was thankful for this, and the nervous pit in my stomach eased slightly.</p><p>SES Cruz showed us to our table, marked reserved for the BAU along with a small framed card with the number '2', in wedding-like fashion. We were just a few paces from the stage, which was adorned with a lectern, our nation's and the FBI's flags, and a few pink and white floral arrangements. Looking out at the many tables scattered around the large ballroom, each was outfitted with silk cream-colored table cloths. There were sets of delicate silver dishes of varying sizes for each course, framed by more silverware than I knew what to do with. The table came together perfectly with a mesmerizing yet sober flower arrangement to match the ones on the stage. Everything about this venue, this gala, the people in it screamed sophisticated.</p><p>Initially, I worried my dress was a bit too formal for the occasion. Compared to some of the gowns my fellow agents were wearing, I actually was feeling a tad <em>under</em>dressed.</p><p>Entering the room surrounded by my team made me feel the same sensation that I used to feel when I entered my high school, along with my regular gang of friends. The feeling of being a part of something, of having people to back me up, of belonging with a particular crew was incredibly warming my heart. I was accustomed to the feeling then, suddenly lost it after graduation. </p><p>But then, it was back, finally. There's power in numbers, they say.</p><p>Even though we were assigned a specific table, we were free to choose which chair we wanted to sit in. Somehow, I ended up between Penelope and Luke, but I didn't mind. Both of them were very good friends of mine.</p><p>Hanging out with Luke during a case made this line of work bearable. The interactions I had with him reminded me that I was not only an FBI profiler but that I was still human. I was allowed to laugh from time to time, to think about the chores that awaited me at home and miss my dog. Then when I came home, Penelope substituted all the work and murder-related concerns with fun, trivial things. She always had the 'in' on the latest gossip at the office, some new fashion tendencies, or filling me in with her new, considerably impulsive order at Amazon. I loved them, plain and simple. They had brightened my life in so many ways. Without them actually realizing, they both were like superheroes who strategically show up at the lowest point in the story to save the day. They had helped me get through with most of my life crises, were patient, and genuinely cared about me.</p><p>However, when they were together, though it was fun at the beginning, it could get really annoying really fast. They would argue about every possible thing available to create polemic. It didn't matter what the truth was, but if Penelope said black, Luke said white, if she said no, he said yes. It was all about contradicting each other and proving the other wrong in front of everyone. Penelope always behaved weirdly uncomfortable around him, which made zero sense, since she was the most easygoing person in the team. Sure, she had trouble accepting change, but when she didn't vibe with someone, she was just curtly, not awkward or nervous like she did around Luke.</p><p>Luke was a tease. He knew exactly how to behave to get on Penelope's nerves and acted on it just to push her buttons and watch her lose her nerves.</p><p>Needless to say, being seated right in the middle of them, though fun at first, had become some sort of medieval torture just a little before dinner was served. Whenever Luke said anything like "pasta is nice", Penelope would attack him right afterward with a piercing, "that's because your taste buds are just as bad as your aim, newbie". It would turn into a massive yelling fight that, even if it lacked the real intention and intensity of a real fight, was tiring to witness.</p><p>It was not long before they actually got me involved. They demanded to know who I considered was right, why, who I liked better, even going to the extreme of asking me why I hang out with the other. The rest of the team found the whole thing amusing since they weren't the ones stuck in the middle. I secretly wanted to take my fancy silk napkin and wipe their smug snickers off their face.</p><p>I managed to finish my supper before the rest finished theirs, ready to take off from the table just to get away from my misbehaved friends. I excused myself and found my way into the surprisingly overflown dance floor. Many faces, none of them seemed familiar to me except for one.</p><p>Agent Anderson was effortlessly dancing to a happy rhythm with a female just as tall as him. Though he was concentrating on his moves, he somehow spotted me in the crowd. I raised my hand up to my chest just to say "hi". He nodded at me and then proceeded to thank the lady he had been sharing the dance floor with and walked towards me. </p><p>"Agent Contreras," he said, bowing politely. "May I have this dance?"</p><p>Anderson was my first dancing partner of the night. We danced a few numbers together before my team joined us on the dance floor. The team insisted on sharing at least one song with me, from Rossi to Spencer to even the gals, we all danced and rotated partners, having a wonderful time.</p><p>Drinks just kept coming from the bar, and the music was excellent for dancing. Luke and Penelope had traded their quarreling for calm, polite chit chats; it was glorious. A charming evening. All the annoyance and discomfort I felt at the beginning of the gala was gone, and I was having a wonderful time. I was not sure about what the team had been ranting about earlier when they said that they were like the pariah of the FBI. Everyone had been so kind to us so far.</p><p>After an hour or so, the crazy amount of dancing and drinking made me feel a little lightheaded. I decided to go out to the gardens to get fresh air and rest for a few moments so I could return later to the gala to keep enjoying myself with my friends.</p><p>The gardens were the vivid reflection of the elegance that dressed the inside of the hotel. All the bushes were nicely trimmed into different shapes. Big sized planters of chrysanthemums were strategically placed all over, creating concrete paths between them. The cold autumn air from Washington DC made me consider going back inside earlier than I anticipated. Deciding that the dizziness that made me go out in the first place was still there, I sat on one of the polished wooden benches that were scattered all around the gardens.</p><p>"Are you ok?"</p><p>Reid's voice caught me by surprise. He was standing by the bench's left side, his hands inside his trousers' pockets. His hair was messy, probably from dancing, or maybe from the wind out here.</p><p>"Yeah. Did you just come out here to make sure I was ok?"</p><p>I was fully aware that my choice of words was going to make him feel quite uncomfortable. My intention was to tease him just to get that uneasy and dorky reaction he always had whenever a girl was a tad flirtatious with him. His cheeks turned into a soft shade of pink, and one of his hands rearranged a lock of his wavy brunette hair behind his ear.</p><p>"Yes," he said after a few seconds of choosing his words. "But also, Garcia and Alvez are discussing again, this time about the correct count someone should follow in a waltz." A soft giggle left his lips as his whole visage relaxed with the rest of his body. "Everybody knows a waltz follows a ¾ compass, which means you need to count '<em>1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3</em>' in order to dance in a proper rhythm."</p><p>He kept laughing at what apparently Luke and Penelope ignored but that he considered obvious.</p><p>"Now that, explains why you have such groovy moves," I joked, dragging myself onto the right side of the bench so Spencer, who was laughing harder, could join me. "You are a great dancing partner, Spencer."</p><p>"Thank you. Maeve thought so, although we never got to share a dance."</p><p>He wasn't laughing anymore. His face, while still relaxed, had a nostalgic feeling to it.</p><p>I had heard that name before. Penelope had mentioned it once when she was trying to set Spencer up with one of the new ViCap ladies. I opposed her idea roundly since I was not thrilled about Spencer going out with someone I considered unfit for him. Once again, it had nothing to do with the little dumb crush I had on him. It was merely friendly to protect him from someone who wouldn't get him like I did.</p><p>Penelope had said then that <em>"Spencer hasn't actually dared to go out with someone since Maeve."</em> However, when I asked further, she said it wasn't her place to tell. I understood why she wasn't comfortable talking about her. Spencer himself reserved the conversation when it arose that time we were discussing dating and exes. I figured it was a touchy subject.</p><p>"Is she the girlfriend you talked about in Vegas?" I dared to ask, testing the waters.</p><p>"She was."</p><p>Oh. <em>Oh</em>. He didn't mean '<em>was'</em> as in, she was no longer his girlfriend. He meant '<em>was'</em> as in she is not here anymore. The tint of sadness mixed with an overall sense of acceptance made me realize that he lost his girlfriend to death, not a breakup.</p><p>I felt my chest burning and my stomach empty, it was a feeling I had only felt twice in my life before. One when I lost my childhood dog, Muffin, and the other time when my great-grandma Betty passed. I certainly was not grieving Spencer's girlfriend's death. I was being brutally empathetic with him.</p><p>"It is ok, Vivian, it happened years ago."</p><p>I beat myself for having him consoling me instead of me caring for him. The truth was that I had no clue what to tell him. The only thing I could think about was "I'm sorry," but I always found those words to be completely useless and stupid. Typically, the person saying them had nothing to do with the event that caused the damage in the first place, so why was it customary to apologize?</p><p>"We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to." I managed to say.</p><p>"Actually," he mumbled. "I'd like to talk about it, if you don't mind."</p><p>What? He did? </p><p>A part of me was thrilled that Spencer trusted me enough to tell me about his late love, Maeve. A smaller part worried I wasn't going to be much help since I've never gone through anything like that.</p><p>And an even smaller fraction of me did not want to hear how he already had the love of his life. But not because of my little crush, no, that had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all...</p><p>His hazel eyes were placed on me, shining more than usual. I could tell that Reid needed to vent a little on the subject.  I was nervous to say the wrong things at the wrong time. I had a psychology degree, but that did not mean that I was a therapist of any sort. It just meant that I understood to a certain level the human psyche. Even if I was used to dealing with grieving parents, relatives, and friends all the time during cases, this was different. I knew Spencer, and I cared for him on a more personal level than I cared for the victim's families.</p><p>But this wasn't about me. It was about him. </p><p>He listened to me when I needed it, now it was time for me to return the favor. I owed him. </p><p>"How come you never actually went on a date with her?"</p><p>I remembered the chat I had had with Spencer in Las Vegas, where he mentioned that he had never been to a decent date, even though he did have a girlfriend at some point.</p><p>"We were pen-pals," he explained. "Then we switched it up to phone calls. I was going through a rough patch, had these massive headaches," he held his hand near his forehead, motioning the pain. "Maeve was a geneticist, she fixed me- the headaches, I mean."</p><p>He sniffed a little and wrinkled his nose. His eyes were not meeting mines anymore, and I understood why. The hardest part was about to be told, and surely even after all those years, he probably struggled to talk about it.</p><p>"She had a stalker that stopped her from living a normal life. Maeve was not comfortable leaving her house, sometimes not even opening a window. She was one of the reasons we never actually met, until that day."</p><p>"She?" I questioned, surprised by the stalker's gender. He nodded. "That day?"</p><p>"The day she was murdered in front of me." He blurted out, not second-guessing his words. </p><p>He had been waiting for me to ask. Afterward, he was not dismayed, afflicted, angry...not at all. He was free.</p><p>"We never got to date, to kiss or to dance together, but I just knew...I just knew here," he pointed to his chest where the heart was supposed to be. "What I felt. You understand, right?"</p><p>"Yes." I nodded,</p><p>But I didn't. </p><p>I had no idea what that feeling was. He had fallen in love with someone he never met. Someone he never knew physically. He fell in love with her ideas, her thoughts, her personality, and her intelligence. Spencer never cared about the way she looked.</p><p>I could never say the same thing regarding me. The only man I had loved was my high school boyfriend, Oscar. Although I had known Oscar since we were both eight, when we grew up, I was first attracted to his athletic, teen movie star façade. Then after giving ourselves a chance to date, I realized how romantic, gentle, and caring he actually was. His ideas and thoughts never blew my mind, though. He was an average teenager who wanted to be famous and rich by playing his favorite sport. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but I wanted a different sort of lifestyle.</p><p>Being in love with Oscar, (because yes, I was in love with him at some point), was more about the longevity of our relationship. We'd known each other since we were little. We had familiarity with each other that gave the sensation we were 'home'.</p><p>Thinking about it cold-heartedly, maybe I was actually in love with the relationship and the idea of it all, not actually Oscar himself. So no, I didn't know what Spencer was talking about.</p><p>"You just know when you have found your other half..." he continued.</p><p>I looked into his eyes, unaware that maybe that sounded a little bit more amorous than I intended. Spencer's eyes looked deep into mine. For a moment, I felt my blood rushing through my veins at the naïve thought that there was something going on between us.</p><p>"You are shivering, Viv. Should we head inside?"</p><p>I hadn't realized that my body was modestly shaking. Spencer thought it was from the chilly air, but I was sure that the subtle tiny itty bit moment of tension between us was the real reason.</p><p>"I'm fine, Spencer. I don't want to go inside yet."</p><p>"Then let me go grab a coat or something," he said. "I wouldn't want you to get sick and miss work."</p><p>He stood, walking back towards the building, leaving me alone with my own thoughts.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. 19: If it is Not Fair, It Shouldn’t be Like That.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sitting in the gardens, I found myself alone once more. As Spencer had gone to get me his jacket, I was left with the feeling of 'what the heck just happened?'</p><p>He'd opened up to me about one of the most heartbreaking moments of his life. Sure, we'd been talking more since he saved my life in Las Vegas when he shot the unsub choking the life out of me. He was there for me during the most traumatic moment of my life, so in some ways, maybe it was natural for him to want to share his with me? </p><p>Part of me wasn't sure, though. Spencer was used to keeping himself walled off, even with Prentiss and JJ, his long-time friends. He would bottle up his emotions and avoid mentioning events that marked him in the wrong way. Spencer had been through so much in his life; I assumed it was easier for him to just block it out. With an IQ of a genius, how could he not feel like his mind was more powerful than his surroundings?</p><p>I would be lying if I said I wasn't touched by his ability to open up to me.</p><p>"Nice dress!"</p><p>I turned both sides before finding the source of the voice. It belonged to a slender, tall, yet extremely feminine figure slaying a tight red dress. Her black hair looked flawless in a neat bob cut that gave me the unrealistic urge to cut all of my heavy hair — right here, right now. She looked like she belonged on the cover of a snobby fashion magazine.</p><p>"Thank you. Yours too," I said, nodding politely. </p><p>She extended her hand, expecting me to take it. I did, without any hesitation, and expected to match her height as I stood. I was taken back by just how tall this woman was. Even with my high heels, she must have surpassed me at least by 6 inches. I was intimidated, yet attracted to the fine specimen in front of me.</p><p>"I'm Alexandra Kochenkov," she said, as her hand lowered to her side. "NYC field agent."</p><p>"Nice to meet you," I said, steading my voice. "My name is Vivian Contreras, from the Behavioral Analysis Unit."</p><p>My shoulders were rolled back confidently as I introduced myself with pride. I wasn't trying to seem full of myself, but showing off a little wouldn't hurt anyone...right?</p><p>"So, you are one of them."</p><p>Wrong.</p><p>"Excuse me?" I sputtered, my brows knitting together in confusion.</p><p>"Oh please," Alexandra laughed haughtily. "don't play dumb, sweets."</p><p>My eyes searched the garden, expecting to see someone else out there so that Alexandra's words made more sense. I was not sure of what she meant.</p><p>"You are one of those 'agents' who get away with mishandling cases and still get praised for it." She elaborated.</p><p>After finding no one but myself and my now defensive model-looking colleague at the area, I placed my eyes on her. My left eyebrow arched as the rest of my features remained neutral. I was not going to let that tall twig get under my skin with her miserable insults.</p><p>"You do everything you want, how you want to. You just guess every time you go out on the field. Profiling isn't even real," Alexandra laughed, scoffing at me. "There's no way you can tell a person's background just by looking at a crime scene." </p><p>Oh boy. There it was. Everything mentioned before, about the BAU being considered the rebellious, overrated child of the FBI, was being expressed by Alexandra. </p><p>By the way, she was way off with her idea of what profiling was, but I was not in the mood to explain to a skeptic the actual complexity of profiling.</p><p>"Are you done?" I questioned with no intention to care about listening to her answer.</p><p>"Not even close," she said sardonically.</p><p>"We just do our job, just like you do yours. No foul play here."</p><p>Kill them with kindness, Vivian. That's the plan for the night. Remember? You can't disappoint Prentiss by putting on a scene with this bully who only wants to prove her <em>-very wrong-</em> point.</p><p>I was actually impressed with the way I was handling the situation. Normally, I would've spouted off, telling her to go to h-e- double hockey sticks, knowing it would elicit a look of confusion as to why I didn't swear. I felt I was acting rather mature, unlike my conversation's counterpart.</p><p>"Really?" her tone of voice filled with sarcasm. "Then how come your unit chief faked her death about ten years ago, hmm? Oh, and then got covered by SSA Aaron Hotchner and consented by SES Erin Strauss <em>with no consequence whatsoever?</em>"</p><p>Wait, what? Prentiss did that? When?</p><p>Too many questions were popping into my head. Despite this, I was not letting Alexandra notice the effect her words had on me, because I knew that's exactly what she wanted to provoke.</p><p>"Or that time Hotchner was charged with terrorism, but miraculously," she continued. "Your team debunked it! Or Agent Elle Greenaway shooting a person of interest with no justifiable motive?"</p><p>She just kept going and going. I had no clue how she knew all of that stuff about my team, and I did not. </p><p>"People talk, you know. Oh, and more recently and my <em>persona</em>l favorite, Dr. Spencer Reid, who got away with the murder of a Mexican doctor. Isn't that right, doctor?"</p><p>Right behind me was the very person Alexandra had been ranting about. I had not felt him coming our way. Spencer stood with his arms crossed, a small black jacket folded over his arms. He must have taken from Prentiss, I saw her wearing an identical one earlier in the afternoon. </p><p>"How is it possible that your team members are always accused of pretty shady things, yet you're never actually processed or convicted?"</p><p>Alexandra's piercing black eyes only reflected hatred, a feeling I was not familiar with nor understood where it came from in her case.</p><p>"Oh wait, <em>you </em>were convicted," She cynically chuckled. "Dr. Reid, you were actually in prison, yet again, your fabulous team of dirty agents somehow got you out."</p><p>I felt Spencer's hand grabbing my arm, his touch was gentle but securing. I looked at him from the corner of my eye, he was not interested at all about what the tall woman in front of us was saying. He was staring at me. His hazel, otherwise shiny eyes were filled with concern. Concern about what <em>I </em>was thinking. Of what <em>I </em>was feeling. Not Alexandra.</p><p>"I think you're done." I finally said, speaking firmly.</p><p>"Can't handle the truth, sweets?" She said, the haughty, superior laugh returning once more.</p><p>"No, Alexandra, I believe you have me confused with yourself. Now, get lost."</p><p>The cheap version of Bella Hadid smiled softly, knowing that she had stirred the pot as intended. I was still unsure about what her intentions were but knew with all security that she was not a happy person. There was so much hate bottled up inside of her. The beauty that had mesmerized me when I first saw her was proportional to the ugliness of her insides. There was no way someone who had never met me could use her knowledge to try to make me feel bad. I was aware that it had not been a personal attack on me specifically, which made worse that the loath she carried for the BAU had driven her to bully a stranger.</p><p>Why did she hate the BAU so much, anyway? We just did our jobs, got into messy situations, and worked our <em>axes off</em> to get out of them. We had nothing to do with NYC field agents. Must've been the herd mentality. People talked <em>sith</em> about us.</p><p>Alexandra left the gardens and lost herself inside the ballroom, leaving Spencer and me alone once more with the wary sound of the wind blowing through the leaves of the plants that surrounded us.</p><p>"You were in prison?" I couldn't help but ask.</p><p>"You didn't know?"</p><p>I shook my head, and he lent me the black coat. I wrapped the coat over my shoulders as I spoke. </p><p>"I was at the Academy around the time it happened. I remember hearing something about it, but there are always a bunch of rumors there, so I didn't believe it."</p><p>"Probably for the best," he shrugged. "most of the things people say at the Academy aren't true."</p><p>"Then what's the truth, Spencer?" I burst unintentionally, turning around to face him. "Because I just listened to the AliExpress version of Gal Gadot talk trash about our team and I don't know if she was telling the truth! I don't care if it happened, I care that no one told me."</p><p>"Don't listen to her." He sighed. "Yes, all of what she said happened, but there's so much more behind all of those events. It is not as simple as she painted it."</p><p>I let myself breathe properly again, releasing the breath I didn't realize I was holding. Alexandra's efforts to make me feel bad about doing my job were merely that, an action that didn't pay off. She opened up Pandora's Box, though, making me realize that I knew very little about the people I regularly spent my time with. Mostly the team members that had been on the BAU the longest were the ones carrying gravest secrets. </p><p>The team made me feel welcomed, and I was comfortable around them. I got invited to their parties, their fancy dinners, and wild karaoke nights. The girls included me in their yoga sessions and girl's nights out. I was safe, I knew they all had my back. I considered them my friends. However, there were speckles of moments where I felt like I was not completely <em>in</em>.</p><p>This was why.</p><p>There was so much that I was unaware of. Things that they had been through together that I had zero knowledge about. Perhaps the reason Luke and I got along so well so fast was that we were the outsiders. The ones who didn't know all the 'dirty little secrets,' as I imagined Alexandra calling it.</p><p>Spencer, the good profiler he was, was able to read my feelings all over my face.</p><p>"I can't talk for the others, but I can talk for myself," he said, "Ask me anything."</p><p>My eyes widened. My mouth opened slightly, but words didn't come out. Two sincerity outbursts from Spencer in just one night seemed so unreal. </p><p>"It is not fair for someone to just say this kind of stuff to you about your teammates and leave without explaining further. I don't want you to think things about us that aren't true. So, anything you want to know about me, ask away."</p><p>"Why were you in jail?" was the first thing I blurted out.</p><p>He looked at me earnestly. "I was framed for killing the doctor that was helping my mom with her Alzheimer's."</p><p>"Who framed you?"</p><p>"The name?" he asked.</p><p>I nodded. </p><p>"Cat Adams."</p><p>I shifted my weight and looked at him curiously. "Why would she do that?"</p><p>"I outsmarted her into surrendering by using her missing father as an incentive," he replied plainly.</p><p>"What did she do?"</p><p>"She was part of a team of hitmen that were targeting Penelope. She was getting close to them. We took them all down, she was the only one remaining."</p><p>Ah, ok, this was something I knew just a little about. Penelope had told me that she had been living at the BAU quarters for a while because she received death threats from a hitman. She did not go into detail because it was something she had a hard time remembering.</p><p>"Ok... so how did the team get you out?"</p><p>Spencer squinted, his muscles tensed. </p><p>"I do not doubt your innocence, I'm just curious. She must have done an excellent job making it look like it was you if you actually went to prison." I explained.</p><p>"A visit from my mother and a woman pretending to be her nurse triggered some memories that were key to solve the case."</p><p>My eyebrows rose in surprise, feeling that it was just a little too perfect to be true. Instantly nagged myself for doubting Spencer's or the team's integrity.</p><p>"How was it like to be in prison?" I asked next. </p><p>During all that time, he had been looking straight into my eyes. However with the last question, his gaze ceded into the concrete beneath us. His overall visage was somber and crude. I slapped myself mentally, realizing that I had taken it too far. There was no way he was going to answer that. I was about to apologize, but his voice reached my ears.</p><p>"My worst nightmare came to life. A Federal agent that looks like a pipe cleaner? Just think about it."</p><p>I felt bad, really bad for taking the conversation there.</p><p>"Also, the shared showers, the toilet in the middle of the cells…a couple of books at a time." He carried on, this time his voice was softer, a hint of amusement hidden underneath his bleak words. "They make you do things you don't want to in order to survive."</p><p>I wrinkled my nose and narrowed my eyes at the idea of Spencer being with another man. I knew how prisons worked. Many men –and women- bound in cages for a long time, let their instincts take over, and did things to get their needs taken care of. He must've realized the picture he had painted in my brain because he immediately continued.</p><p>"No! Not those things, Vivian! Geez," he said quickly. "I'm talking about moving drugs."</p><p>"What?" I asked, snapping out of my trance.</p><p>"They asked me to move drugs, and I was not going to do so," he paused for a second, choosing his next words delicately. "…maybe I altered the product using some chemicals I found at the laundry, got them to the infirmary from intoxication."</p><p>My jaw dropped, shocked at the calmed way he was confessing that. Spencer would stutter, saying almost anything remotely out of character for him, but with this…he hadn't.</p><p>"You did the right thing, Spencer. If you had complied with what they were asking, they would've turned you into their go-to mule."</p><p>"I know. I was not going to let more drugs inside an already messed up place. Drugs mess <em>everything</em> up, Vivian."</p><p>He emphasized the word 'everything', which made me realize that there was more to that statement than meets the eye. Call it profiler instinct, a friend looking out for him, whatever it was. I was mostly sure that drugs 'messing everything up' was personal to Spencer. Deeply personal. </p><p>He gave me permission to ask away, so I took my chance. "How long?" I questioned. </p><p>Spencer gave me a confused look. </p><p>"How long have you been clean?" I elaborated.</p><p>This time, it was his jaw that dropped to the floor. He was not expecting me to catch the true meaning of his words. </p><p>Though he was ok with talking about his experience in prison and his long-lost love Maeve, this hit him in a different place.</p><p>"About 11 years." His voice cracked, his hands now shaking. "Not counting the time I was drugged in Mexico, it wasn't voluntary, so I don't count it."</p><p>"Which drug?"</p><p>"Dilaudid."</p><p>My jaw was clenched. I was angry at him. There was not a universe in which Spencer Reid being a drug addict made sense to me. I was not sure why I cared so much, but I just wanted to know.</p><p>"Why?" I asked shakily.</p><p>"I got kidnapped by an unsub with dissociative identity disorder. He forced me to use it. It only took a couple of doses for me to steal the Dilaudid from him and keep using it afterward."</p><p>My breathing became more agitated as Spencer kept talking. His voice was shaking now too as he was hurting from the memories.</p><p>I myself had plunged into drugs before. The summer before college, my friends and I decided that it was a good idea to give it a go. To live our best lives before we all went our separate ways. I had no recollection of the events of that summer whatsoever. Still, when the end came, I simply forced myself to get clean by locking myself up in my room and just dealing with withdrawal by myself. It had not been that bad. I never thought of consuming again and never did. For me, even drugs had been some sort of pleasant experience. For Spencer, it had probably been one of his lowest points in life.</p><p>This whole conversation with Spencer made me realize that we were polar opposites. I've had it all while growing up, and he didn't. During adulthood, even with my stupid struggles, I still had a decent life. I thought being the genius profiler he was that he had one too. Yet, I was wrong. His life was tragedy after tragedy in his life. It was not fair.</p><p>I felt the tears finding their way on my cheeks. I felt embarrassed for crying when Spencer was the one who should've been crying. He was definitely not ok, but not as shaken up as I was.</p><p>"I am so sorry, Spencer."</p><p>He was about to say something, but I did not let him. I hated when people apologize for things that weren't their fault, but unfortunately, it was the only thing my brain could come up with. </p><p>"I know that it isn't my fault, that there's nothing I could've done, but I just…" I stuttered. "I hate how unfair it is that you hurt like that. I hate that you went through all of this while there are people like me whose biggest problem has been how to match their high school best friends' success."</p><p>"Viv…"</p><p>"It's not fair. It should not be like that. There should be a balance in everything, including the ups and downs in a person's life."</p><p>Spencer reached for my hands, squeezing them as he let me know that my feelings were valid.</p><p>"That's not how life works, Vivian."</p><p>"I know," I mumbled. "I just wish I could take away some of that pain, some of those rough patches, and transfer them to myself, just to make us even. So you don't hurt as much."</p><p>I didn't realize then that what I said had an enormous deeper meaning. I was willing to take his pain and suffering just so he could be lighter. </p><p><em>Shoot</em>. This was not just being empathetic. This was so much more that I could understand.</p><p>Spencer's hands were still clinging into mines. His eyes a little red from trying to repress some tears unsuccessfully. I was not sure if he was crying because of something that I said, or at a hurtful memory. Either way, it was not ok that I made a friend cry just because I was being nosy. I began to regret every single moment of the evening.</p><p>We stared at each other, trying to figure out what was the right thing to do next. The whole ambiance felt heavy but, at the same time, safe.</p><p>Spencer's eyes told me that he was not mad at me for saying what I said. I felt relieved since I would've hated the idea of having pushed Spencer too far to tell me some of his most significant troubles. He was humbled and touched by my last words, and so was I for his trust.</p><p>One of his hands reached for a tear that hadn't entirely left my face. His jawline clenched a little as he stared at my eyes.</p><p>Something overcame me, and I found myself leaning into him at the same time as he did too. Our lips finally touched in a soft, warm kiss.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Soooo...how are we feeling so far?<br/>Promise, this is only getting better. </p><p>Thanks for reading! </p><p>Chapter beta'd by: cls2256</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. 20: L.A. Heat and its Melting Consequences.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey! Spoiler alert for 14x15 "Truth or Dare." </p><p>This a re-write from that episode, therefore it includes the events from a different, new perspective. <br/>If you haven't seen it and don't mind the spoiler, please enjoy! <br/>If you mind, go watch it first, but please come back to keep reading, it means a lot to me &lt;3 <br/>If you have seen it, please know that some details may change from canon and will effect future storylines. <br/>Either way, thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Are you sure, sir?"</p><p>"Yes ma'am, he definitely hesitated before taking the shot."</p><p>My eyes were narrowed as I listened to an eyewitness for the case we were currently working on. I wasn't squinting at him, I was squinting at the hell-like feeling of the surprising winter sun of Los Angeles.</p><p>"All right, anything else?"</p><p>"No, I think that's all." The man answered.</p><p>"Thank you for your time."</p><p>I nodded once more and turned on my heels toward where Luke was standing. He had been interrogating another eyewitness, who also happened to be a popsicle street vendor. My colleague was munching on a delicious looking, green popsicle.</p><p>"You didn't get one for me?" I asked him, a tint of disbelief in my voice.</p><p>"You said that L.A. weather isn't hot, so I assumed that you didn't need one."</p><p>"I said that it isn't as hot as Florida, but it is hotter than D.C."</p><p>Luke rolled his eyes and gave me his own popsicle before going back to the vendor to get another one.</p><p>While waiting for him to come back, I called Prentiss to inform her about what we just learned from the witnesses. Two people were killed by a gunshot seconds after being involved in an induced car crash. Victims had no apparent connection. We had multiple eyewitnesses and a name and face for the unsub; Mark Zabel. But without understanding his end-game or motive, it was impossible to predict where or who he was going to target next. L.A. being a big city made it harder to just cross paths with him even if we had an A.P.B. on him.</p><p>His behavior was all over the place. Why crashing his car onto the victims' just to shoot them afterward? It seemed like a lot of work. Also, why the hesitation?</p><p>We had discussed the possibility of being some sort of paraphilia. Still, we came to the conclusion that it wasn't viable due to the small amount of time spent at the crime scene after the murders. That, and his scared, anxious reaction –according to witnesses.</p><p>"Prentiss here." She answered.</p><p>"Hey, just wanted to let you know that both our eyewitnesses agree that Zabel hesitated before shooting both Andrea and Tyler. Like as if he didn't want to do it."</p><p>"It coincides with what we got from the security tapes. Man, why would he hesitate if he had already crashed his car onto theirs? He had already hurt them, so?" </p><p>"Maybe he is not about the killing but about the impact of the collision?" I asked. </p><p>"I don't know, Vivian. It kind of feels like something else." </p><p>"I know. Listen, we are going to head back to the station now. Call if anything happens."</p><p>"You too, tell Alvez to drive decently. There's no rush now." Prentiss ordered, a tad of amusement in her voice. </p><p>Just as Luke returned with my popsicle, I finished my small check-in with Prentiss.</p><p>"Thank you," I said with a wide smile. </p><p>I got a simple "mm-hmm" from him. I smiled even wider, winking in a teasing fashion.</p><p>"You know you love me."</p><p>He laughed as he shook his head, playfully bumping me on the arm.</p><p>We headed inside the parked S.U.V. Luke turned the air conditioner as soon as we stepped in. He was really not used to heat, and I couldn't blame him. Back in D.C., we were at 41°, but in L.A. it was 73°. </p><p>In <em>November.</em></p><p>I had been living in D.C. for a little less than ten years, and its weather had changed my heat tolerance. Still, somehow, my thermo-receptors could handle some hot temperatures. Thanks, Florida, for grooming me into a high heat tolerance woman.</p><p>"So, I talked to Addison yesterday. She is going to send me the dress she wants me to wear for her wedding, it might take a while to get here though, it comes from Milan". </p><p>I accentuated the last word, trying to make it sound fancier just to nag Luke a little. He was not into fancy, elegant, girly stuff. </p><p>"Remember when you had a breakdown because she got engaged?" Luke teased with a mischievous smile.</p><p>"Ha-ha. I am not that person anymore. I've accepted that my friends' lives are in no way a comparative point of my life." I said proudly at my own growth. "You said it yourself. I have my own kind of success."</p><p>Luke's eyebrows raised, and his eyes stretched in disbelief. I imagined that it was hard to believe that I had gone through some sort of epiphany in the last months. All of a sudden, my fears and insecurities were no longer haunting me.</p><p>I, in fact, had been working on that and got to a point where I wasn't mad about not being at the same page as my friends anymore. I learned to appreciate the privileged life I was given and to humble myself a few degrees. But there were little details nonetheless, that I could improve some more, like being honest to myself about my own feelings.</p><p>"Also, I realized I was a jealous witch."</p><p>"That's more like it."</p><p>I sighed, thinking about the immature reaction I had when I first learned about my best friend's engagement. I was extremely jealous and scared at the idea of being left behind. I still was, but not specifically because of Addison. It was because it felt like I was losing them. They were all ready to begin a more stable stage of their lives, while I was just beginning to navigate the waters again.</p><p>Even with the B.A.U. by my side, I couldn't let my high school friends go. They had been my everything for so long, and they still were. With occasional face-time calls, we kept in touch. Talking with them reminded me of a precious time I had been working on learning to accept that was gone."Talking about weddings, crazy how Rossi is getting married tomorrow," I recalled. </p><p>"Yeah, and we're all stuck here working on a case that may or may not be solved in time."</p><p>I shook my head before the idea of missing Rossi's wedding. He had stayed at home to finish with the last details of the grand event. There was no way we could miss it; we needed to complete the case sooner than later.</p><p>
  <em>"We have a visual on Mark Zabel, Wheeler St with Lynn. Requesting back up ASAP."</em>
</p><p>We both stared at each other after hearing the report over the police radio. We were the closest ones, so it was on us to get him. Luke forced the last bit of popsicle inside his mouth and began to drive like crazy to said location.</p><p>After various close encounters with death courtesy of Luke's terrible driving skills, and a couple of prayers to arrive safely, we parked the S.U.V. so our vehicle and two other police cars could surround Mark Zabel's blue truck, leaving him no place to escape.</p><p>Luke and I left the S.U.V., hiding our faces and bodies behind the car doors. We were not wearing bullet-proof vests, we hadn't had the time to put them on. This was an urgent manner.</p><p>"F.B.I., step out of your vehicle," Luke yelled, announcing our presence. "Put your hands in the air."</p><p>Mark toyed with the idea but ultimately decided to exit the truck as we requested. He was sweaty, dirty, and definitely tired. He lifted his hands when one of the police officers accompanying us reminded him that he needed to put his hands in the air.</p><p>"He's armed, Luke," I added after noticing the revolver hanging in the waist of his pants, previously covered by the flannel he had over his shirt.</p><p>"You don't understand!" he screamed, his voice reflected desperation. "If I don't do this, he is going to kill her."</p><p>"Who is going to kill who?" I questioned in hopes of obtaining as much information as possible, fully aware that in Mark's state, the situation could go south very, very fast.</p><p>He looked restless, scared, and somewhat confused. I felt for him, but was confused myself; this wasn't a typical man on a murder spree. There was so much more going on that we were not aware of.</p><p>He kept letting his hands down, to which every cop shouted in response: "Hands in the air!"</p><p>"My wife, Lynn. He kidnapped her. If I don't do this, if I don't play along, he will kill her."</p><p>His hands reached inside his flannel. Various shouts asking him to stop, before a gunshot interrupted them all. Zabel's body hit the ground in a matter of seconds, as life left him. L.A.P.D.'s cops went to check his vitals, even though it was pretty evident that he was gone. Luke and I just glanced at each other, confirming that this case had become way more complicated than we anticipated.</p><p>Luke and I searched Mark's truck, nothing inside but a very wrinkled paper sheet with a name, an address, and a license plate.</p><p>"We need to call Emily," Luke pointed. </p><p>I nodded, took my latex glove off, and dialed her phone. I kept it on speaker so Luke could also participate. She answered almost immediately.</p><p>"Mark Zabel is dead." He talked first. "Killed by a cop, he was armed and reached for something inside his shirt."</p><p>"Good, so we are done?" Prentiss questioned. </p><p>"Don't think so. He said his wife, Lynn, was kidnapped by someone who was forcing him to 'play along'. He's just been a patsy, Emily." I explained.</p><p>"Jesus <em>fucking</em> Christ." She stated, her tone of voice reflected the opposite of her words. "That's why he hesitated when shooting them, he didn't want to."</p><p>"Do we believe him, though?" Luke questioned. </p><p>"We'll need to check the wife, and we'll go from there. But to me, this makes more sense than before. I'll ask Garcia to get me an address. Thanks, guys."</p><p>"Ah, Em, that's not it." I interrupted. "He had a paper with someone's name, Charlie Sturgill; his address and license plate included. Luke and I think that he was probably Zabel's next victim."</p><p>"He surely was." Prentiss sighed on the other side of the line. "I need you guys back to the station ASAP."</p><p>"We'll do. It's going to take a while though, traffic is bonkers right now." Luke stated.</p><p>"Right. Drive safely." </p><p>We both jumped into the S.U.V. and began to drive to L.A.P.D. quarters to meet with the rest of the team. We needed to discuss what our next move was, now that Zabel mentioned a third party involved somehow with the murders.</p><p>As for that moment, the team had been behaving like a group of headless chickens. It happened when we were working a case that made us feel like we were missing something. I was hopefully clinging to the thought that this new material could make things easier to put an end to the case.</p><p>Being a big city, the ride was at least 45 minutes long, enough for us to unwind a bit. The case had all of us on edge, and we were slowly starting to digress. I needed some quality human time with my best pal. We were not going to be able to contribute a lot to the case while stuck in the traffic in the car anyway.</p><p>Having some alone time with Luke, just to talk about regular stuff of our regular lives, helped me put things into perspective. It kept me fresh for working the case once we arrived at the precinct. Overthinking was a profiler's downfall, I had learned that over the months I had been working in the B.A.U.</p><p>"I need to talk to you about something that happened at the gala." Luke blurted.</p><p>I had a short spasm as a reaction of the words I would've never predicted to leave Luke's mouth at that specific moment. He stared at me, an eyebrow raised and amusement in his face because of the little shock jump that occurred to me.</p><p>I could feel the heat owning my cheeks, not because I was embarrassed about how I handled Luke's desire to talk about <em>something </em>that happened at the gala. But because the memory of what happened at the gala took over my mind once again.</p><p>
  <em>Spencer and I kissed.</em>
</p><p>It hadn't been a big deal. At least not in the way I would've liked it to be.</p><p>In fact, it was something I was embarrassed to remember or even think about.</p><p>He had pulled away after a few seconds of what I thought was a long-awaited kiss in both our ends. He was alarmed, and I could instantly see the reflection of regret in his eyes as soon as we unlocked lips. He had apologized multiple times.</p><p>
  <em>"I am sorry Viv, I shouldn't have done that."</em>
</p><p>His words burnt into my ears all the way into my stomach. I was finally giving in with the idea that Spencer was not just a tiny itty bit of a crush. Still, actually someone I liked…as in for a relationship. He didn't feel that way. I always knew he wasn't emotionally available, or at least not to me. </p><p>The fact that he pulled away from that great kiss, just confirmed it and made it real.  </p><p>I was heartbroken. I wished to wave a magic wand and erase that kiss to avoid the emptying feeling that was left behind. I was not going to make things more awkward than what it already was. It was not an option to let him see how disappointed I was at his decision to pull away. I was too proud to let Spencer Reid know that I was actually hurt by that.</p><p>
  <em>"You're right, Spence, we shouldn't have."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I am truly sorry…"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Don't be, we were both a little emotional, that's it."</em>
</p><p>Then we got interrupted by Luke, who announced that Prentiss was about to give her speech, the occasion being the homage to the B.A.U. He said we were all required to get on stage with her, so the higher ranks of the F.B.I. could eulogize the B.A.U.'s work afterward.</p><p>Spencer and I headed inside, no word was ever spoken again regarding <em>the kiss.</em></p><p>It was scary to imagine that Luke knew about <em>the kiss</em> and was about to confront me for it. I was ashamed of being rejected again, and this time by Spencer Reid.</p><p>Yes, Spencer was smart, handsome, caring, and an overall catch. Be that as it may, his inability to flirt or to just be around a girl he considered beautiful made him a little bit of a loser in the romance department. Thus, as mean and conceited as it sounds, I thought that he would be open to give it a go with anyone willing to be with him. Especially someone who knew him well, didn't judge him, understood him and was decently looking.</p><p>
  <em>Someone like me.</em>
</p><p>It was a low blow to be rejected by Spencer Reid. </p><p>So much as Luke was an understanding friend, he was still a guy who loved to bother me in a brotherly fashion. He was going to have a blast rubbing in my face how 'genius boy' didn't want to kiss me. And I was not ready to take his comments on the matter. All the same, the probabilities of him knowing about <em>the kiss</em> were high since he was the one who interrupted Spencer and I's uncomfortable apologies after the act. I guessed that maybe he had been there for more time than he said he did and had the misfortune of watching <em>the kiss</em>.</p><p>"Wha-what about it?"</p><p>"Promise me you won't tell a soul."</p><p>"Promise." My voice shook as anxiety kicked in.</p><p>"I slept with Penelope."</p><p>He didn't know about <em>the kiss</em>! That was great news. I could carry on with my life safely, knowing that absolutely no one was aware of that embarrassing moment between my tall skinny colleague and me. What was left of my ego after <em>the kiss</em> was still intact without Luke or anyone else knowing.</p><p>Oh, wait.</p><p>WHAT?!</p><p>"You <em>what?</em>"</p><p>"I slept with Penelope," he repeated.</p><p>"No, I heard you the first time, doofus. It was a 'what' as in; what the <em>deck</em>?" I snapped.</p><p>A million thoughts invaded my head. I was not able to process the fact that my two best friends had shared an intimate night. They disliked each other! How could that happen without me realizing it? I always thought that they were like kindergarteners teasing each other and pulling each other's pigtails.</p><p>I couldn't stop myself from picturing Penelope and Luke kissing and touching, and…</p><p>"I think I wanna throw up." I groaned.</p><p>"I am not even driving that bad…Oh. <em>Oh</em>," He realized that the origin of my desire to puke was not his horrific driving skills as usual. "Don't be like that, don't picture it."</p><p>"I can't help it! I'm sorry." I answered, now with a tad of amusement in my voice. "How? You guys were fighting all night."</p><p>Luke shook his head from side to side, then let a grin take over his face. "Turned out to be a great turn on."</p><p>"Oh, shut up, please." I groaned once more.</p><p>"You asked!"</p><p>Silence suddenly took over the S.U.V., as the new information about my colleagues began to sink in. It was like a crossover of my favorite T.V. shows, which no one asked for.</p><p>I was in no position to judge, though. I had got myself involved with another team member too, only to fail miserably.</p><p>"You just chose to tell me this right now? While in the middle of one of the most chaotic cases the B.A.U. has ever worked on?"</p><p>My tan-skinned friend nodded. "Pretty much. Penelope made me promise that I was not to say anything to anyone, but honestly, it has been killing me. I figured that she was going to tell you sometime anyway. I wanted you to hear this from me before."</p><p>That made sense. We were all friends, we were bound to each other, and at some point, the truth always surfaces. Mostly when there's alcohol involved. Penelope was going to let it slide accidentally on a girl's night out or something like that.</p><p>Although I was still shocked by the newly discovered sexual bond between my dear friends, I was happy to know. It made me feel included. And for once I had control over Luke, I could pick on him whenever I wanted. I could use his affair with Penelope as an endless source of material.</p><p>Also, I was thrilled that Luke didn't know about <em>the kiss</em>.</p><p>"How many times?"</p><p>"Five."</p><p>"Five?! <em>Jesus superstar</em>, it's only been two weeks since the gala!" Luke laughed at my reaction, his eyes still focused on the road. "Is there something happening…?"</p><p>"No, it's merely sexual."</p><p>"Merely sexual," I repeated, trying to engrave those words into my brain. I was not going to be able to see them as the same Penny and the same Luke from that moment on.</p><p>I felt a little betrayed by my friends' actions, but I was not going to let myself go that way. I had been working on being more independent when it came to my friends. It wasn't about me, it was about them. They were adults, and they could make their own decisions. If they were ok with being some sort of friends with benefits, then I was too. I just hoped that it wouldn't end up in heartbreak and me being in the middle.</p><p>"Speaking of the devil…" I whispered, watching the S.U.V.'s control panel light up with Penelope's name. I pressed the green button to take the call. "Hey, Penn."</p><p>"Greetings, beautiful creature, and Alvez." A long pause followed her words. "Prentiss wants to connect you guys into a conference call."</p><p>"Sounds good," Luke answered, a smirk across his face.</p><p>I shrugged my nose and shook my head as if that way, I could scare away the naughty thoughts of my friends together.</p><p>"You guys are…connected. Hi Emily, you now have Viv and Alvez on the line."</p><p>"Great. Listen, guys, we have made major developments since we last talked. We went to the Zabels' address. We found Lynn dead. She was still warm, which means that Mark could not have killed her." She explained.</p><p>"Following the puppet-master type of killer that Zabel suggested, we began digging about who might want to force him to kill people." Spencer's voice took over.</p><p>It was funny how I could see my colleague's facial expressions as they spoke even if they weren't in front of me. The tremendous amount of time we all spent together was intoxicating, to say the least. We were all weirdly familiar to our every move and reactions. Secrets were hard to keep. It was actually a miracle that they didn't already figure out that something happened between Luke and Penelope. Or Spencer and me.</p><p>"I also got the 101 on Charlie Sturgill," Penelope added. "You won't guess what… He was an eyewitness in a case where our first victim, Andrea, worked as a defense attorney and where our second victim, Tyler, functioned as the head of the Jury, eight years ago."</p><p>Penelope's voice was filled with excitement. We were really close to getting to the actual mastermind of the recent kills, and to wrap up the case to go home for Rossi's wedding.</p><p>"The defendant's name of that case is Casey Allen Pinker, that's our real unsub. He forced Mark Zabel to kill Andrea, Tyler, and apparently also Charlie since they all were involved in his trial" Prentiss went ahead.</p><p>"What was he on trial for?" I questioned.</p><p>"Charlie says that he saw how Casey clearly crashed his car to another car. However, Casey's defense was that it had been a dare. Some other guy at the bar forced him to during a game of truth or dare gone wrong," J.J. spoke for the first time.</p><p>I shook my head in disapproval. That was not a good defense at all, but it fits with the overall feeling of the case. Before dying, Zabel had said something about playing along, maybe he was referring to this. Maybe Zabel was the guy who dared Casey to crash his car in the first place all those years ago, making him do all those things as payback.</p><p>"He's after anyone involved with the trial he considers to be mishandled," Spencer stated. </p><p>"Great, so who else is involved? Maybe we can get to them in time before Casey does." Luke suggested, ready to turn the S.U.V. in the middle of the highway if it was required.</p><p>"Don't worry about it, J.J. and I are already on our way to get Judge Melissa Hamilton, who ultimately sent Casey to jail," Spencer announced to us. "We are tracking her phone. Looks like we are near."</p><p>I nodded, agreeing with our team's plan, even if they couldn't see me. It was an involuntary reaction.</p><p>I loved how fast we could work once he had the right clues. We had been stuck on the page for two days, and it all got solved in half an hour because of the critical hint Luke and I got from Zabel. We just needed to get Judge Hamilton safe, put an ABP on Casey Pinker and hopefully arrest him before Rossi's wedding.</p><p>"Ok, so we just wanted to let you guys know where we are with the case," Prentiss said. "We'll meet you…"</p><p>"I think that's her car" J.J.'s voice interrupted Prentiss', she wasn't talking to us, she was talking to Spencer, whom she was riding with. "She is with someone else, isn't she?"</p><p>"Seems like it," Spencer replied.</p><p>The rest of us remained silent, as we carefully listened to our teammates driving on the other side of the line. I simply felt the tension incrementing as every second went by.</p><p>"J.J., turn the car now. Casey is with her. They are trying to escape!"</p><p>Luke parked our own S.U.V. to the side of the highway as we continued to hear how our friends struggled to pursue Judge Hamilton's car, that apparently had been hijacked by the unsub.</p><p>I placed my eyes on Luke, alarmed about the apparent noise of multiple cars honking, followed by the screeching sound of wheels being forced to break.</p><p>"JJ, Reid, what's going on?" Prentiss demanded.</p><p>Though her voice was imperative, I was able to detect some shakiness in it. It was minimal, but it was there, and that's what mattered. We all knew that whatever happened next was not going to be something we liked.</p><p>"Seems like they are leaving the car," J.J. pointed.</p><p>We heard both car doors opening, the honks coming from the cars around them continued. Through the distance, I was able to hear some gunshots and screaming.</p><p>My heart was racing fast. I felt my hands shaking, as well as every inch of my body. I clenched my jaw without even realizing it. Stared at our S.U.V.'s control panel, as if doing that, I had control over whatever was happening on the other side.</p><p>"Spencer!" I cried, in hopes of getting an answer.</p><p>I didn't care how anguished it sounded or how I neglected to name my other teammate. I didn't care that he had pulled away from <em>the kiss</em>. I cared about hearing his voice, confirming that everything was fine.</p><p>Which never came.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>chapter beta'd by: cls2256</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. 21: The Powerlessness that comes With Being a Spectator</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Spoiler alert for 14x15 "Truth or Dare." <br/>If you haven't watched and you care about the thrill, please go watch it but come back:( I'd appreciate it. <br/>If you don't care, go ahead, enjoy! <br/>And, if you've watched it, please be warned that some details and plot points were changed for the sake of this story arc! </p><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I clung on to my bullet-proof vest, holding tight just so I could feel secure and stable in the middle of the chaos around me. I could hear Luke and Prentiss talking, but I wasn't listening to them.</p><p>There were patrol cars with their sirens on, a SWAT team getting ready on the side of the building. An improvised command center in the middle of the street where we last heard JJ and Spencer driving in.</p><p>After getting no response from them, Prentiss ordered Luke and me to go their location, as found by cellphone GPS. Luke stepped his reckless driving up a notch, and we got to our destination in less than fifteen minutes.</p><p>A few eyewitnesses told us that <em>"a blonde woman and a tall guy with messy hair followed the guy with the gun and the fancy lady inside the jewelry store."</em></p><p>Following that lead, we tried to get into said jewelry store only to find the security curtain down and impossible to open. We called Prentiss, let her know the situation, and half an hour later, the whole circus around me surfaced.</p><p>I stared at the main entrance of the jewelry shop where my teammates were being held hostage, the security curtain still closed shut. Penelope hadn't been able to hack the security system to lift them up yet. She kept trying, as she was not the type to give up, especially if her friends' lives were at stake. The back entrance had been barricaded, and the security camera's low quality only gave us visual feed.</p><p>I watched the monitor for a long time. Not daring to look away.</p><p>Spencer and JJ were on the floor, their hands tied with various layers of duct tape. They seemed calm, but I knew they weren't; it was just the façade they were trained to put on.</p><p>There were also two other females inside. One being Judge Hamilton, and the other was the store clerk. Casey had a gun to Judge Hamilton, and she had a gun pointed at my two unarmed friends. Her face was a mess, all her makeup was smudged all over her skin as a result of extensive crying, and her hands were shaking as she changed her aim from JJ to Reid, Reid to JJ various times. Casey was making her do that, no doubt. </p><p>I could see him talking, arguing, and waving his gun erratically. Each time he did that, I flinched. </p><p>Emily had contacted Rossi since she thought that he deserved to know what was happening. "J<em>ust in case</em>" were her words.</p><p>Just in case they don't make it out alive? Was that what she was trying to say? Definitely, but she would have never put it out like that. She also noted that Rossi was the expert on handling hostage situations and negotiation. If it came to it, he was going to do it, all the way from Washington.</p><p>He and Penelope stayed on the line the whole time. I knew both of them were afraid that if they hung up, the next time they called, Spencer and Jennifer would no longer be alive because I was feeling the same way. I feared if I looked away from the monitor, the next time I looked back, I would be looking at one of my friend's dead body.</p><p>"Negotiation line's ready." SWAT's chief, Dwight, announced.</p><p>"Perfect. Go ahead, Rossi." Prentiss ordered.</p><p>The tones began to sound, every beeping noise longer than the one before. Through the screen, I saw Casey staring at the store's phone, the little red light flickering announcing that it had an incoming call.</p><p>"He's not going to answer," I whispered to myself.</p><p>The call ended without the phone on his end being picked up.</p><p>"Again, Rossi."</p><p>Our chief's voice was firm, this time, there was no shake to it like it happened earlier in the day when Spencer and JJ did not answer. Prentiss was excellent at her job and had mastered the art of staying completely calm in times when having her sanity intact was indispensable. She got scared when they failed to report themselves, but now that it was a matter of do or die, she could not afford to lose it, like I was doing.</p><p>Nothing. No response. Rossi tried again. And again another five times.</p><p>There was no way we were going to negotiate with this guy. He had everything he wanted.</p><p>"He's not answering," I repeated, this time in a higher volume. "Casey already had his revenge on most of the people responsible for sending him to jail. Judge Hamilton is his endgame. If something, he actually has the upper hand holding a civilian as hostage –the store clerk-, Judge Hamilton, and two FBI agents."</p><p>By the sad look Prentiss gave me, the soft pad on my back Luke proportioned, and the utter silence from Penelope and Rossi, I knew I was right. </p><p>"My men are looking for a weak spot on the back entrance door. If they can find one, we can blow it and raid the shop," Dwight informed Prentiss.</p><p>She shook her head, rejecting the idea. "No way. If Casey feels at any given moment that we are getting close to getting in, he will start shooting." She explained, her factions relaxed. </p><p>"This man has everything he wants, yet he has nothing to lose," Luke interjected. "He feels like society has done him wrong, so he doesn't want to be a part of it. If we storm in, he will finish the job, kill Judge Hamilton. Not to mention anyone else in his way before we take him down, or he kills himself."</p><p>Luke's words resonated in my ears. He was right. Casey was a ticking time bomb that was also unstable. One wrong move and the whole thing could blow everything in its way. There was nothing we could do about it; we couldn't negotiate, we couldn't break in…</p><p>It was a waiting game, and I hated waiting.</p><p>The LA sky was already dark. The air felt cooler than in the afternoon, yet to me, it only made it feel heavier.</p><p>This couldn't possibly be it. This was not how it was supposed to end. </p><p>How could anyone be so calmed when our teammates, our friends were inside the building with an unstable armed, revenge-oriented man?</p><p>Everything that happened around me felt like it happened in slow motion. Everyone was rushing; however, I felt like nothing was being done. Because nothing actually <em>could </em>be done from where we were standing.</p><p>As a field agent, I had dealt with the anguish of not knowing how my teammates were multiple times in only six months. With them being in life-threatening situations just like this one. Spencer had walked into a burning truck to save a little girl. Prentiss had been cornered by an unsub during an arrest. I had been choked while undercover.</p><p>But in all of those cases, I knew that if anything went south, we could just go and do something to prevent a fatal outcome. JJ could've gone back for Spencer if necessary. Luke tackled the unsub before he could do anything to Prentiss. Spencer shot Dirk Henson, not letting him kill me.</p><p>This time though, we were not able to just storm the facility to assist my friends. Or talk the unsub out of his plan.</p><p>We could not have their back.</p><p>I was looking at them. I could see JJ and Spencer sitting on the ground, looking at each other, and figuring out the next right thing to do. Their guns tossed to the side, out of their reach. Judge Hamilton crying as the store's clerk bled due to a gunshot wound Casey inflicted in one of his recent tantrums.</p><p>We were spectators, and that was killing me.</p><p>I cowardly looked away from the monitor for the first time when Casey grabbed JJ by her hair and pointed his gun to her right temple. </p><p>I was not willing to see my friend's brains being blown.</p><p>"What is she doing?" I heard Penelope's voice coming from the computer.</p><p>"Looks like she's trying to calm him down." Prentiss pointed out.</p><p>I forced myself to look at the monitor again. JJ was standing up slowly, cautious not to make any sudden movements that would alarm Casey. I could see that she was talking, but once more, I failed to understand what she was saying. Casey's gun pointed at Judge Hamilton and shot her leg in a matter of seconds. JJ's straight face turned into a vivid image of distress. Spencer's eyes filled with gloominess watching his friend struggle with whatever they were dealing with. I saw his hands moving behind his back. It was subtle, but I had been staring at the same image for too long not to notice.</p><p>Not knowing what exactly was going on made me sick. I made myself take deep breaths, filling my lungs with air over and over again just to feel more serene. I closed my eyes, reminding me that what had to be, would be.</p><p>When I looked back to the image, the little peace I found seconds ago, vanished immediately. Casey's gun was placed over JJ's forehead as he shouted and moved his hands in the air. He was shooting her. I had no doubt. </p><p>My eyes began to water, yet no tears fell right away. Prentiss, Alvez, and I had our sights set on the monitor, fearing the worst. Penelope began to sob on the other side of the line.</p><p>Then, out of nowhere, in a matter of seconds, Spencer freed himself. He grabbed a gun from an ankle holster no one knew was carrying and shot Casey dead. He fell on his back as soon as the bullet hit his head. </p><p>Spencer stood up, letting us see that he had been using a piece of broken glass to cut through the duct tape that tied his hands. That was where the movement came from earlier. </p><p>Still startled at the deafening noise of a gun being shot, I ran to the back entrance, where Dwight ordered his men to enter the building. Once inside the shop, I was able to see both my colleagues for the first time in what it felt like forever. After a quick glance, making sure they were breathing, I suddenly, I was able to think and act like the FBI agent I was supposed to be.</p><p>I kneeled to check for any vitals in Casey, pointlessly. I stood up and did the same with the store clerk, she was not conscious, but she was still alive. Judge Hamilton was also shot and bleeding fast but was aware of her surroundings. </p><p>"We need medics," I said, knowing that my team could hear me through their earpiece.</p><p>The SWAT team secured the area and lifted the security curtain. The main entrance was opened by the paramedics, who immediately checked on the bleeding clerk on the floor. One team picked up the clerk, and a second one took Judge Hamilton to safety. It was only a matter of seconds before Prentiss and Luke stepped inside the building too.</p><p>"Are you guys all right?" Prentiss asked JJ and Spencer.</p><p>"Sure," JJ replied blandly.</p><p>Her eyes were red, watery, and her respiration was arrhythmic. She was truly shaken up by the recent events, and she had every right to be. </p><p>"Reid, you're bleeding." Alvez pointed out.</p><p>My eyes searched his body in looks of said blood, which came from his hand. It must have happened when he cut his way out of the duct tape with a piece of broken glass.</p><p>"Oh, this. It's nothing." he shrugged.</p><p>"Get that checked out." Prentiss ordered.</p><p>Spencer, not willing to contradict his boss, nodded and exited the building. I walked towards JJ, patting her back softly, unable to find the right words.</p><p>"Do you need anything?" I asked gently.</p><p>"No, I'm fine, Vivian."</p><p>"Really, JJ, anything."</p><p>"I'm fine."</p><p>She assured me multiple times that she was fine, so I chose to drop it. I did not want to nudge her further. She had already been through enough.</p><p>I left the shop, the now cold breeze hit my face, and it felt nicer than before. Refreshing and revitalizing. Perhaps it was psychological, now that it had all passed, everything seemed ten times better, even the weather. </p><p>I spotted Spencer getting his hand bandaged by a paramedic. His hair was messier than usual, his clothes a little misaligned. His semblance was a mix of emotions; tranquility, weariness with a hint of sorrow. He was a master at pretending to be ok with things that bothered him just so no one could ask him about it.</p><p>But after several intimate moments with him. Moments in which both decided to naked our souls, I thought I knew my fair share of Spencer's expressions.</p><p>"I am glad you are ok," I said to him.</p><p>"Me too." He answered.</p><p>Since <em>the kiss</em>, we had been avoiding each other. Not in a rude, childish manner. We simply limited the time we spent with each other to the minimum necessary. We worked fine together, we chit-chatted a little about the weather if we were stuck in the elevator. He would pass the milk to me while I made coffee if no one else was there. We both put a lot of effort into trying to make things seem normal. We both subconsciously didn't want anyone questioning if there was something between us.</p><p>I knew positively that on my end, the past couple of weeks had been exhausting. It was an internal fight to convince myself that the reason I was upset about the whole <em>kiss</em> situation was only related to the ego damage. 'Rejection' was one of my biggest fears because most of my life, I had been used to being on the other side of the spectrum. I was the prom queen, the most popular girl in school. 'Rejection' was not in my vocabulary. I told myself I was taken aback with Spencer's rejection was simply because I couldn't handle rejection well, especially coming from someone who wasn't an expert in relationships. </p><p>...Not because I felt something for him rather than the tiny itty bit childish crush.</p><p>But now, after nearly losing him to an erratic armed man in a hostage situation that scaled in a matter of hours. The thought of seeing him dead on the jewelry store floor had woken up a level of anxiety I had never reached before in my entire life. It was the feeling he talked about in my first case, of losing someone you care about, and a piece of yourself in the process. Him being trapped and me being an outsider, powerless observing took me to a place of desperation that I had never visited before. I wasn't so sure anymore that rejection was the problem.</p><p>We had opened up to each other. I let him see me at one of the most vulnerable points in my entire life. He had had the confidence to talk to me about Maeve, his childhood, his mom, about prison, and his drug problem. We used to speak regularly, and I just felt so inexplicably good around him. His little gestures of concern when we were on an incredibly dangerous case made me feel safer. The way he uncomfortably changed the conversation whenever Penelope or Luke mentioned a guy they thought I would like, hinted of some sort of jealousy. The way he had said 'you <em>are</em> beautiful' instead of 'you <em>look</em> beautiful' that night at the gala… it just sparked something it shouldn't have sparked.</p><p>I liked Spencer Reid. A lot.</p><p>Not just the tiny itty bit of a crush that I thought it was all along. This was <em>more.</em></p><p>We stared for a few seconds. My gut told me to go ahead and say something else to him. It was not in my nature to leave things unsaid. I was the kind of person who would always say what they feel the second they do because to me, communication was the key to everything. Since I started working in the BAU, there were plenty of things I couldn't express, mainly stuff related to cases, but <em>this</em>…<em>this</em> I could tell. I didn't care about him pulling away. Maybe he was nervous. Perhaps he was scared about someone seeing us…All I cared about was the fact that life was messy, random. One minute you are talking with your best friend about his sex life, and the next one, two of your teammates have a gun to their heads.</p><p>I was not going to live on ease if I didn't tell Spencer how I truly felt. That I was not sorry for kissing him that night. That I cared for him, and I had subtle feelings for him.</p><p>Except Spencer was no longer looking at me. His sight went over my shoulder, to something or someone behind me.</p><p>I turned my head, Jennifer Jareau being Spencer's target.</p><p>At first, I figured he was worried about her. Aside from the fact that they were best friends, they were the only people in the entire world who actually knew in detail what happened. He must have been concerned about her well-being after experiencing a near-death situation. JJ and Spencer were the only ones who could help each other with psychological recovery, which was totally understandable. The rest of us had been making guesses based only on the images the cameras could provide. We didn't know what they heard, what they had to say to please Casey, or to distract him. I personally didn't know what it was like to have a gun pointed at my head. I imagined that if it was tense to see, it was worse to live.</p><p>Time kept going, and he was still looking at her. Spencer's hazel eyes riveted on the blonde woman talking on the phone at the entrance of the jewelry shop, a few feet away from where we were standing. I was looking at him, nevertheless, for him, it was as if I wasn't even there.</p><p>As each second went by, I realized that there was more to his gaze than just concern for a friend who had recently gone through a traumatic experience. There were several feelings involved. </p><p>Deeper, complicated feelings I dreaded to even consider.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>chapter beta'd by cls2256<br/>thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. 22: What Happened Yesterday, Anyway?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>SSA David Rossi's wedding was the event of the year— maybe even of the decade.</p><p>I mean, I knew the man had money. Naturally, he would've earned a fair amount with his multiple books, subsequent movies, and his steady earnings with the B.A.U. I had seen his house, his cars, and the kind of clothes he wore, but that didn't prepare me for the grand wedding I was gracefully invited to. The event did not read so much as '<em>Rich,'</em> as it read as 'totally <em>F-ing loaded.'</em></p><p>The venue itself said a lot about Rossi's acquisitive power. The ceremony and the reception were held at one of the most exclusive country clubs in the D.C. Area. The grandiose flowers ornamenting every corner of the place was absolutely ridiculous— it turned D.C.'s autumn into spring. Every detail was meticulously taken care of, nothing left to chance. From the lighting, to the seating, to the food, to the music, it was just perfect.</p><p>Gosh, I would do anything for a wedding like David Rossi's. </p><p>Of course, if I ever had someone to get married to.</p><p>After the events at the jewelry shop, we all went to our hotel for a good night's rest so we could wrap up the case with LAPD in the morning the next day. It took a little more time than expected due to the complexity of the case to get on the same page with the leading detectives. They were afraid of being questioned by their superiors about what led to the hostage situation where Judge Hamilton was shot, and Casey killed by a federal agent. Prentiss told them if they had any issues, she would personally explain the events to whoever was in charge.</p><p>We thought we were going to make it to the wedding on time; however, we then got stuck at the jet, waiting for air traffic to clear up so we could take off. Once arriving back in DC, we rushed to our houses to get dressed and ready for the event. We could not show up in our regular work clothes. No way. I was sure that Krystall would not have minded, but Rossi, on the other hand, would have died, then come back to life to kill us. He had put too much money and effort into making the perfect wedding for us to show up in work trousers and blazers. Plus, he said that he had been talking a lot about us to all of his –famous- friends, so we all wanted to give the best impression.</p><p>Missing the bride's big entrance had bummed me, but seeing Rossi and Krystall exchange vows with tears of joy in their eyes made up for it. I almost cried. This was the kind of love I aspired to have. They were so lucky to have found each other once more. Destiny was real. I never doubt it, but watching an old man marry his ex-wife number three, made it crystal clear. No pun intended.</p><p>The cocktail hour was brilliant; just what I needed for my rollercoaster of emotions. From the revelation of my own feelings towards Spencer, <em>the kiss</em>, the LA case, Luke sleeping with Penelope, my teammates being held hostages, and Spencer's suspiciously long gaze over JJ, alcohol was the essential medicine.</p><p>I stopped myself after the third glass of wine, mainly because I was not ready to get completely hammered. It was early, no one else was heavily drinking like me. I needed a more significant portion of the guests to get drunk before I did it myself.</p><p>To my dismay, the whole team was seated at the same table. Two weeks prior, I would've died if we weren't, but after the entire Spencer situation, I wasn't sure that I could keep up with the façade that everything was normal between us, because it wasn't. At least on my end, "normal" was not an option anymore. I had feelings for him, and if he didn't, which apparently was the case, then I needed to begin to get over it. It was not healthy to fixate my emotions on someone who was not able to reciprocate them.</p><p>Sitting by his side while he looked as handsome as he had ever looked made this <em>way</em> harder.</p><p>I could feel how he would occasionally glimpse in my direction when I was focused on something else. JJ received double the amount of what I did, despite Will, her husband, being there by her side. My undivided attention was placed on Luke and Penelope, who once more were fighting over meaningless crap. As annoying as it was, it was way better than looking at Spencer and JJ exchanging gazes every three seconds. Plus, it was my opportunity to gather as much intel about Penelope's and Luke's relationship, so I could tease him later.</p><p>After the most delicious dinner I had ever eaten, Penelope decided that it was time for Prentiss, me and her to hit the dance floor. It was surprisingly already crowded by a portion of Rossi's and Krystall's 200 guests. Even with all the people dancing, I thought I saw Ringo there for a second…</p><p>The open bar at the reception was doing nothing on my sobriety's favor. Penelope, the worst influence in the entire world, made it her mission to keep a drink in my hand the whole evening. Even Prentiss kept me 'hydrated' when Penelope was too busy to notice my glass was empty. Surprisingly, I was more sober than drunk. Muscle memory? Probably. </p><p>High school years were times when I got hammered every single weekend and went to school the next Monday looking fresh, with all my homework done and acing every test. I was able to handle alcohol like a goddess. It took a long time and a substantial amount of alcohol for me to get knocked out. It had been a while since then, but something well learned is never forgotten. </p><p>The time I got drunk with Penelope after being stood up by that stupid fancy lawyer, had been one of the few times I actually blacked out. I attributed it to my fragile mental state and the lack of food on my system. </p><p>...and maybe that I finished a bottle of vodka in less than a minute while strangers screamed at me "bottoms up," only to top that with various shots of different colors and flavors right afterward.</p><p>This time, I was still drinking a lot, but not as fast. I was pacing myself, not wanting to be the sloppiest person at the reception.</p><p>Wow, this was the second time in a couple of months that I was in the mood to get drunk after spending almost a decade not feeling like it. This job and the people that came in hand with it certainly messed with my head.</p><p>"Dance with me?"</p><p>I turned around to meet Luke, extending his hand to me at the sudden change of rhythm. It had gone from a happy modern sound to a softer, slower song. Everyone paired up, including the newlyweds.</p><p>"Why don't you ask Penelope?"</p><p>My friend rolled his eyes and shook his head.</p><p>"Come on, Viv, you know why. Merely sexual."</p><p>I looked around, alarmed, checking that no one else had heard his words. Luckily, both Prentiss and Penelope had already paired up with some really good-looking strangers and were immersed in the song. I sighed before taking his hand and letting the music take on our moves.</p><p>"Just to let you know, you are definitely taking me home. I plan on getting a little bit more than tipsy tonight." I said. "You are my designated driver."</p><p>Luke's eyebrows furrowed. "Don't know if I can. Might have plans for later."</p><p>I traced his sight onto my blonde friend, rocking an amazing bright orange dress. Color suited Penelope perfectly. I grimaced at the idea of Luke and Penelope ending the night with a bang. Literally.</p><p>"Ugh, never mind," I grimaced. "I'll call a cab."</p><p>"Ask Spencer to take you, he's not drinking."</p><p>"No." I blurted.</p><p>Wrong choice. My dear friend's eyes shined as his mind began to create diverse theories as to why I didn't want to go home with Spencer as my chauffeur. I slapped myself mentally for letting my words leave my mouth before analyzing the probable repercussions.</p><p>They are profilers, Vivian. They interpret even the way you breathe and dig to find a reason why you breathe the way you did. You have to be more careful if you want to get away with hiding your feelings.</p><p>"No?" He asked curiously</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Why? I thought you guys were getting along just well." He said, some kind of enjoyment in his tone of voice. "Actually, scrap that. I thought you guys were getting along <em>amazingly</em> well."</p><p>"Don't know what you are talking about," I answered with my best poker face.</p><p>"Viv…"</p><p>"I don't want to bug him, alright?" I said impatiently.</p><p>"I don't think he will be bugged by you."</p><p>I stopped myself before talking. My immediate reaction was to ask, "<em>Why? What do you know that I don't?</em>" but didn't. It would've been extremely dumb on my part, considering Luke was probably only trying to make me admit something that I wasn't ready to say at loud.</p><p>"He will. It seems to me like everything would bug him tonight. He hasn't even been talking to JJ." I pointed out.</p><p>"Oh, yeah, I noticed that too."</p><p>"What?" Penelope interrupted, as the song came to its end. "Don't let me be the outsider, include me, please."</p><p>I laughed at her hurriedness of being a part of our conversation. Prentiss followed her, just in time for the new song to dictate the new rhythm we should follow. It was another slow song, yet it was one of those commonly used to transition to a more moving track.</p><p>"Reid has been a little off, tonight. He has been awfully quiet." Luke explained to our recently added friends.</p><p>"Yes, I thought I was the only one who felt that." Penelope let a pout take over her face. "Poor thing, he must be still taken aback about what happened yesterday."</p><p>"What happened yesterday, anyway?" I questioned in hopes of a better understand what was going on between them.</p><p>Prentiss shook her head, "Not sure yet, I will find out once they submit their reports."</p><p>"Oo, yes!" Penelope clapped her hands.</p><p>"Penelope, reports are confidential. You know only the unit's chief and above can read them. If Spencer and JJ choose to share what happened with us, fine. If not, then, that's fine too." Prentiss nagged us like a mother would do to their nosy children. "Let's give them some space."</p><p>All of us nodded. The wound was too shallow still. As usual, we would let them be and hope for them to open up at some point. We would only intervene if, only if, it began to get in the way of the job.</p><p>"Nice dress!"</p><p>The déjà vu those words inflicted in me made me turn around cautiously. Only this time, Krystall, Rossi himself, and whom I assumed was Rossi's daughter, were standing there instead of knockoff G.I Jane. (A.k.a. Alexandra the field agent that made me think twice about my team's integrity at the gala).</p><p>"Oh my God, thank you, yours too. You look divine, Krystall." I answered to the all in white, glowing bride as I leaned to hug her.</p><p>"It fits you like a glove," Said the tall, beautiful woman accompanying the couple. "Did you come with anyone tonight? If not, I'll gladly introduce you to some people, because, girl, <em>damn</em>." </p><p>I looked down at my dress, it was a simple, gold slip dress that I bought on Amazon a week prior. Truth to be told, I never tried it on until it was time to attend the wedding. I was glad it met the expectations.</p><p>"Vivian, I don't know if you already met my daughter Joy…" Dave went ahead, introducing her. "Joy, this is Vivian, she's a co-worker and friend."</p><p>I leaned in to hug her too. I was pretty comfortable around them, so no big deal.</p><p>"Congratulations guys!" Prentiss said before joining them both in, it rapidly turned into a group embrace.</p><p>"I am glad you could all make it. Where's wonder boy and JJ?"</p><p>Rossi's eyes scanned the entire room full of people before finding the previously mentioned colleagues at the bar, talking. JJ looked unarguably uncomfortable while Spencer remained calmed and still.</p><p>"Ah, I see." He answered himself.</p><p>"I thought they weren't talking to each other," I whispered, feeling a tint of jealousy take over my tone of voice.</p><p> "Maybe they are discussing whatever happened." Krystall pointed out.</p><p>We all agreed to stop looking at them and keep up with the party. This evening was about Krystall and David, not Spencer and Jennifer. We gave the Rossi's congratulations and best wishes before they moved on to greet other guests.</p><p>Multiple times I had to fight myself so I would not end up looking around for Spencer. Every time I did sneak a glance, I ended up feeling a little worse than before. It had been quite a while since I felt something similar for someone else. My self-esteem had been hanging by a thread ever since all my high school friends began to get into serious relationships. I was not letting Spencer Reid pulling away from a kiss to do me worse. But man…it was just so hard.</p><p>Feelings were like a small pimple on your face. It wasn't easy to notice at first, but once you detect it, it was the only thing you could see, and for some reason, it would start to get bigger and redder.</p><p>If I was behaving like that at a party, with a vast crowd I could shield myself on, I feared on the way I would act around Spencer at the office. As good as a liar as I was, hiding my emotions was hard. They always ended up bursting out of me one way or another. I refused to let things get messier.</p><p>It got to a point where I decided plainly that the best way to get over a man was to get under another.</p><p>Maybe Joy could help, earlier she had said that she could introduce me to some people. </p><p>My eyes danced around the classily decorated room overflowing with people until I located Rossi's daughter dancing with a little kid. I assumed he was her son. She was in the complete opposite direction of where I was standing, listening to Prentiss and Penelope recall different funny stories of the past. Luke was gone to get more drinks.</p><p>If I did it, then hopefully it would all be over. I would just let myself have fun, meet someone new, and put my mind on other <em>things</em>. There was also a high chance of me regretting it once I got back to my five senses.</p><p>As if sent by God himself, a voice stopped me before I even began to walk towards Joy.</p><p>"May I join you, gals?"</p><p>"Tara!"</p><p>I sighed in disbelief as my mind processed who I had in front of me. </p><p>My first FBI boss ever and the person who thought I was worth mentoring. The woman who believed in me blindly enough to say my name to the Behavioral Analysis Unit.</p><p>"Oh, hey, Lewis, glad you could make it!" </p><p>Prentiss greeted her in a way that seemed like she already knew that Tara was attending Rossi's wedding. Seeing two boss ladies in front of me made me feel weirdly strong and powerful.</p><p>"Yeah, talk about jet-lag. We landed about an hour ago." Tara joked before hugging Penelope, who seemed anxious to be noticed. "Hello, Penelope."</p><p>"You're marvelous, truly." My blonde friend whispered, tears of elation in her eyes. She had to take off her glasses to clean them up afterward. I let little laughter leave my lips as I accepted Tara's embrace.</p><p>"Wait a sec, are you back, <em>back</em>?" She nodded. "Oh, my God!"</p><p>"That's so cool; for the first time ever, there will be more women than men in the BAU!"</p><p>Penelope's excitement caught the attention of a few people around us, not caring a bit about the fact that her voice somehow surpassed the volume of the music. I got her excitement. I was thrilled too. Working side by side with two of my most significant role models? Heck yes.</p><p>Then, it hit me.</p><p>I had been filling in for Tara while she was on assignment. Now that she was back, the spot I was taking was no longer available. From the beginning, I knew that at some point, I was going to leave the BAU and go back to the forensic psychologist's division. I just deceived myself into believing that that moment would actually come later rather than sooner.</p><p>I felt my smile disappear, and all my features tense as it hit me that the LA case was going to be my last case. That next Monday, I was not going to Quantico and press button number six of the elevator. I was not going to sit on my desk while Luke distracted me from doing my job. This was it.</p><p>No more serial killers. No more trips to every possible state in the country. No more private jet, no more awesome boss, no more supporting team. </p><p>No more Spencer Reid.</p><p>Luke appeared juggling with four drinks as he dodged some of the people dancing. His eyes widened at the sight of Tara Lewis hanging with us.</p><p>"No way! How come you are back so soon?" He asked, happiness overflowing him.</p><p>"So soon? It's been six months, Alvez. Plenty of time has gone by."</p><p>Wow. Six months. I had been working in the BAU for six months. By no means had it felt like that. I had been too busy to even keep track of time. </p><p>Luke gave each one of us a glass, leaving him with nothing afterward. He had not contemplated Lewis being there but was willing to give up his drink so Tara could have it.</p><p>"Geez. I am glad to be back in DC with you guys. Especially on a team with a bunch of awesome ladies." Tara said, a broad smile in her face, she passed an arm around me tenderly. "To be surrounded by only men all the time is exhausting."</p><p>"Yeah, I mean, who would like that?" Luke inquired, a trace of naughtiness in his suggestive voice.</p><p>"Your mom."</p><p>We all let a soft "ohhh" out as laughter soon took over our words. He was idiotic if he thought that he could get away with picking on Tara Lewis. One way or another, she always had the last word. It didn't matter how dumb her response was. No one could deny that "Your Mom" was a comeback you couldn't argue with.</p><p>"There it is. Great. Very mature Lewis."</p><p>"You know who else lacks maturity?"</p><p>"Who?"</p><p>"Your mom."</p><p>We all laughed even harder, finding it unbelievable that Luke fell into Tara's "Your Mom" comeback twice.</p><p>I felt again the gloominess of the idea of leaving the BAU taking over me. Though nothing was confirmed, I assumed that it was the way things were meant to be. It was what had been established when I first joined the team. I just wished that it hadn't been like that. All and all, the pressure of the cases, the lack of time for socializing outside the job, the many insecurities that it uncovered, were all only a small price to pay to do what I always wanted to do; help people. And I willingly could put up with it for the rest of my life if that meant I got to help make the world a better place.</p><p>Embarrassed due to the recent 'burns' Tara had pulled on him, Luke turned his face my way. Although bothered, he managed to also look amused. Then he must've thought the same thing I did, regarding what Tara's return meant for me, because he stopped cold, his muscles tensed.</p><p>"Wait, if Tara's back. That means Vivian's out?"</p><p>I lowered my gaze onto the floor, not daring to look at my boss's face when she had to say that my time at the BAU had come to an end. I was having such a good time, why did this have to happen all of a sudden?</p><p>Luke's arm went around my shoulders protectively, as if doing that, he would somehow shield me from reality. We were close. Very close— I considered him the most important person in my life at the moment. He was the big brother I never had, a voice of sanity during my lowest days, and a person I could relate to because of our backgrounds.</p><p>"Oh dear. I did not think about that." Penelope said, crestfallen.</p><p>Her eyes began to get watery again. I knew she was sentimental and essentially allergic to change, but tearing up so fast about the rushed inference of my departure from the BAU, was nuts. Must've been the alcohol in her system.</p><p>Prentiss pursed her lips, not thrilled with the idea of having to deal with the matter in the middle of Rossi's wedding while half-drunk. "Guys, I was going to wait to tell you this in the office…"</p><p>"Emily."</p><p>Luke's voice sounded harsh, he was now demanding her to say something positive or not to say anything at all. He seemed pretty aghast about the recently learned information. I grabbed Luke's arm softly, trying to reassure him that I was fine. Even if I wasn't. I didn't want to see him get in trouble over it.</p><p>Prentiss stared at Luke with one eyebrow up in incredulity at the tone of voice he used to address her. Yes, we were all friends drinking at a wedding while dancing and cracking jokes, but still, Prentiss was our boss.</p><p>"Nonetheless, since the cat is out of the bag, I might as well tell you," </p><p>Our boss continued talking. Her fingers toying with the napkin on the bottom part of the glass she carried. Her face read as that she was having a hard time finding words to explain further. It could've been because she was tipsy. </p><p>"Matt Simmons resigned from the team, quite some time ago, actually."</p><p>My jaw dropped to the floor. Everyone else's did too, except for Tara, who just seemed familiar to the whole situation. She knew about this too.</p><p>I knew Matt Simmons was also a permanent member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I also knew that he left for vacation and that he got his permit lengthened. Furthermore, I was counting on his return at some point. The news of his resignation was shocking. It meant that there was an open vacant.</p><p>"His vacation license ended three months ago and he communicated to me that the BAU was no longer a good fit since his wife, Kristy, is pregnant with their fifth and he needed more time at home," Prentiss continued. "That means that Viv, if she wants it, has a spot permanently on the team."</p><p>"You couldn't have mentioned that like…when it happened?" Penelope questioned.</p><p>Prentiss shook her head, and I was speechless. Everything had happened so fast. A problem I was not aware of, got a resolution I had no idea was even an option. I hadn't had time to worry enough before the whole thing was fixed. I was overwhelmed, yet a part of me wished that every problem I had to deal with was like that. An easy way out without me even realizing there was something to take care of in the first place.</p><p>"Well, at the time, S.E.S. Cruz was not sure if Vivian was long-term BAU material. He was considering other agents from different divisions."</p><p>Fair enough, I wasn't sure either if I could pull off the job for longer than requested at the time. But after six months, I was pretty confident that I was capable of doing it. I had learned enough and seen enough to build some sort of resistance to all the sadness and horrors we often witnessed.</p><p>"That jerk."</p><p>"He only wants the best for the team, Penelope," Prentiss explained, her voice more relaxed than earlier. "And the best turned out to be Viv. He made up his mind after the Anoka case and truth to be told, I was getting ready to give him the fight of his life if he didn't choose her. I know my team better than anyone, and this has been working great so far."</p><p>"I told you. She's got it."</p><p>Tara added with a triumphant smile, like a mama chicken. Passing her arm over my shoulders, not before slapping Luke's hand so he would give her his stop.</p><p>"No doubt."</p><p>"Thank you, Emily."</p><p>I managed to say, some happy tears making their way through my cheeks. I was a very sentimental person, and the alcohol on my bloodstream wasn't helping much. I had been dreading the imminent end of my time at the BAU for the past six months, anxious of not knowing which case was going to be my last, but I brushed it off and kept ignoring it. I had not realized that until the weight of the uncertainty was lifted off my shoulders.</p><p>I was now officially, permanently a Behavioral Analysis Unit team member.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>beta'd by cls2256</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. 23: Supervisory Special Agent.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Do you think I should go for it, Contreras?"</p><p>"Don't know Anderson, and honestly, I don't care," I answered.</p><p>Anderson grimaced and let gravity pull his head towards the elevator's metallic wall.</p><p>"I just honestly don't get why you need my advice before watching Grey's Anatomy." I continued, having watched my colleague's reaction to my indifference concerning his Netflix binge-watch list.</p><p>"Because," He gasped. "Watching a show like <em>Grey's Anatomy</em> is a long-term commitment, we're talking 16 seasons."</p><p>I scratched my eyebrow as I built up my patience. Agent Anderson was not giving up on the subject.</p><p>Once. I had mentioned to him <em>once</em> that I had seen up to ten seasons of <em>Grey's Anatomy</em>. Now he was asking me about the content value, story fluidity, and character relatability to decide if it was a good choice for him to binge. Usually, I would have complied. I liked small talk at the office to make things a little more 'normal' before diving in another tragic, gruesome case. But he had mentioned Christmas break, and with that, he reminded me that I didn't have one. Though we weren't required to actually come in, the BAU was always on the clock.</p><p>I was jealous and bitter. I always spent Christmas with my family in Florida. This was actually the first year I was going to be alone in DC.</p><p>But you wanted to be a profiler Vivian— Good frogging job. Now spend the holidays curled up on your couch with your dog drinking hot cocoa while watching cheesy Hallmark movies.</p><p>Actually, when I thought about it like that, I didn't sound terrible.</p><p>Anderson's blue eyes pierced my skin as he still expected an answer from my part. I sighed, defeated, as he was not going to give it a rest.</p><p>"You know what? Go for it. For all I care, it's a good way to pass the time. However, the many major character deaths will make you cry. Also, you will probably get mad about the awful depiction of law enforcement in certain scenarios." I shrugged my shoulders. "But hey, it doesn't lack drama and diverse plot lines."</p><p>Anderson squinted as he processed the information I had given him. Then he shook his head.</p><p>"Maybe I should just watch <em>Friends</em> again."</p><p>I rolled my eyes, dreading that he would start talking once more about TV shows.</p><p>Anderson and I had spent most of our Monday morning at Quantico's shooting range. I had to take my gun qualification at the beginning of the following year, just as most of the agents, so I thought it was a good idea to practice. Although I had been on the field for six months and had aimed my gun to several unsubs, I had never needed to fire it. I was a little nervous about it. Anderson had offered to help, and I accepted it, thinking that spending time with a good looking guy while shooting a gun would help take off my mind from Spencer Reid.</p><p>Yet Anderson, as nice or smooth as he could be during short encounters, spending more than an hour with him, he became a little immature and annoying to my taste.</p><p>"Yes, Grant. Go watch <em>Friends</em>."</p><p>The elevator's perfect timing amazed me. The doors opened, and we both exited the metal box and began to walk towards the BAU's entrance. He let me go in first.</p><p>"Thanks for helping me today."</p><p>"Sure, anytime."</p><p>I smiled softly, not exactly answering to him. I was not going to tell him a plain "no" since that would've made things awkward around the office, but I was definitely not committing to do that again. I liked him better before I actually got to know him. He was friendly, but that was it.</p><p>I began to walk towards my desk when he interjected his way between me and my path. </p><p>"Oh, Vivian, I forgot," He called out, a sudden change in his voice. "Prentiss said that you forgot to sign the Casey case report."</p><p>I frowned, as I couldn't remember not signing the said report. In fact, I was pretty sure that I had signed it. I had just finished it early in the morning. But if Prentiss said so…</p><p>"Alright, I'll check that out later."</p><p>I kept walking, but he stood in my way. A nervous smile appeared on his face. I lifted an eyebrow, unable to understand what that meant.</p><p>"She needs it now, she's about to send them to Cruz." </p><p>I studied Anderson's factions, every micro-expressions. His bottom lip twitching a little. I called his bluff mentally, something was up. </p><p>"She's in the conference room." He added, his smile switching even more.</p><p>"Ah, yes, I'll go, then," I said slowly.</p><p>I cast a skeptical eye before changing my direction towards the briefing room, just as he had told me to. I went up the three-step stairs that lead to the said place and opened the door slowly, still dubious of his urgency for me to sign a report.</p><p>"Congratulations!"</p><p>"Surprise!" Luke's voice stood out.</p><p>"Really newbie? 'Surprise'? I thought we all agreed on 'Congratulations'!"</p><p>Penelope cried as she gave my now flustered friend a Medusa type of look, deadly.</p><p>My eyes toured the otherwise gray room, now filled with colorful balloons, some serpentine, and glitter. On the round table were a big cake, some plates, napkins, forks, glasses, and a dangerously wine-looking bottle.</p><p>"Oh, my God!" I managed to say.</p><p>"Show it to us, baby!" Penelope demanded.</p><p>"I don't know what you are talking about…"</p><p>"Come on, Contreras, don't play prude. We all know that you like to show off."</p><p>I narrowed my eyes perplexed at Prentiss' words. She thought I was some sort of attention-seeker. They all did from the expression in their faces. I was not exactly thrilled with the image they had about me if they profiled me as a coy woman.</p><p>Well, they weren't exactly wrong. I guessed they had all played dumb to build up my confidence for the first few months. Still, now that I was given a permanent spot on the team, they could finally cut the crap and talk all in regarding everything, including my true colors, or whatever. I also felt that way, it was time to open up a little bit more.</p><p>I moved my shoulders rhythmically as a somewhat celebration while I grabbed my credentials from my back pocket. Opened it and showed them for the first time.</p><p>"Supervisory Special Agent, Vivian Contreras." Rossi read at loud the new content of recently renewed credentials. Everyone cheered. "Congratulations, kiddo."</p><p>Supervisory Special Agent was a title, ranking that only a few agents within the Bureau had. Mostly, division's chiefs were eligible since the 'Supervisory' part meant that they were granted the power to coordinate, lead, strategize and track the progress of a group of Special Agents during an investigation.</p><p>Nonetheless, in the BAU's case, whoever had a permanent position as a profiler automatically qualified to become an SSA. Basically, because considering that this specific branch of the FBI worked a lot with other divisions and the nature of the job we did, it gave us preference in the hierarchy. That way, the other divisions would actually listen to us when we worked with them on a case.</p><p>He extended his arms towards me, and I happily took his embrace, which lasted for a few seconds. Dave topped it off with a kiss in each cheek and a soft palming. After him, Emily followed, then Tara, JJ, Penny, Luke, Anderson, who had stuck around probably to eat some cake. Even Spencer gave it a go, it had been a stiff hug that was probably carried out of compromise since the rest of the team had hugged me.</p><p>"Can't believe you guys did this for me!"</p><p>My already clear expression of enjoyment grew bigger as the cake's smell invaded my nostrils, delighted me with the very characteristic scent I loved.</p><p>"Is it…?"</p><p>"Apple pie cake? Of course. Jamie baked it." Luke pointed.</p><p>I squeaked out of elation. I couldn't believe they had set up that mini party, cake included, to celebrate my new ranking at the FBI. And that they took the time to get my favorite cake from Jamie's bakery.</p><p>"This was all Luke's idea," Lewis added, glancing at my previously mentioned friend.</p><p>I turned to him and hugged him tightly enough to make him gasp a couple of seconds in.</p><p>"Thank you," I told him, looking at his eyes. "Actually, thank all of you for this."</p><p>I went on, placing my sight onto each and one of them. Penelope had been handing out cups filled with what seemed like white wine?</p><p>"You shouldn't have." I was going to end it right there, but since Prentiss called me out on my false modesty, I kept going. "Now, you have to blow my mind for my birthday."</p><p>Everyone laughed. Penelope gave me the last glass before raising hers, inviting the rest to do the same.</p><p>"This is only apple cider since we are sadly on the job, but I wanted to toast, anyway." My blonde friend grabbed my hand tenderly. "Our team is complete again, everyone who needs to be is here, and I am just so, delighted. And proud. Mostly proud of you." She addressed me, smiling from ear to ear. "Cheers!"</p><p>"Cheers!"</p><p>Rossi went on to slice the cake onto perfect pieces so no one would fight over the biggest piece like it had happened during JJ's birthday a few months ago.</p><p>I was having a great time, I had mostly everything I wanted. Life had taught me that moments like that were worth savoring every second.</p><p>That was until I saw Spencer leave the briefing room and go back to his desk. I stared at him for a few seconds, battling to just ignore it. Damn him, and<em> the kiss.</em> I was trying to enjoy my own kind of success, and he just kept popping in my mind.</p><p>"Congratulations."</p><p>JJ's blue eyes met mines. It had been a while since we had talked face to face, ever since the LA case about two weeks prior.</p><p>"It's not a big deal,"</p><p>JJ's eyebrow lifted as she questioned if I really meant that.</p><p>"It means a lot to me, though, but they are just words thrown before my name."</p><p>"It's a new beginning." She said, smiling slightly.</p><p>"I guess so," I said with a shrug.</p><p>"You are now officially a profiler with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. It doesn't get much better than that in the FBI."</p><p>"Unless I snatch Emily's job at some point," I snorted.</p><p>"Or the Director's," She added playfully.</p><p>We both laughed. Suddenly the little ball of jealousy and aversion to JJ that had been growing inside me since the Casey case disappeared. It had all been based on one look Spencer gave her. I felt paranoid.</p><p>"Is Reid ok?" I asked, not thinking twice before talking. It was a reflex.</p><p>JJ's posture changed from relaxed and goofy to uptight and secretive. "Why do you ask that?"</p><p>"Well, he just took his slice of cake and left us to sit at his desk. You are his best friend, I figured that if something is wrong, you are the one to ask."</p><p>I shrugged my shoulders, trying to make it seem less important than it actually was to me. JJ scratched the lower part of her scalp, seeming to choose her words carefully.</p><p>"He's ok, Viv, don't worry."</p><p>I nodded in agreement. JJ padded my back in her usual motherly way and turned away to join another conversation group.</p><p>"Hey, JJ, why don't you take some cake for the kids?"</p><p>"Sure!" She said, her posture relaxing. "Thank you."</p><p>"I'll leave it in the fridge."</p><p>She smiled at me, I could tell she had to force herself a little to do so but decided not to take it personally. Something had happened at that jewelry shop, no doubt. But it wasn't up to me to keep digging.</p><p>Prentiss and Lewis approached me, and we began to talk about different trivialities. I savored the cake Jamie had kindly baked for me as I also relished the moment. That split second of calm. No case. No fear. No worries. Nothing but a nice morning with the people I cared about celebrating a milestone of mine. The briefing room was home of laughter, silly conversation, fantastic cake, and drinks instead of the usual macabre murders. I thought nothing could make that day better.</p><p>I was wrong.</p><p>"Hey, Viv, have you seen that?"</p><p>Penelope came to me, pointing at the BAU's monitor, where she regularly presented cases. Now it had a banner that read, "Welcome, SSA Contreras!"</p><p>"Yes, I love it, Penny."</p><p>"No, not that."</p><p>She grimaced as the screen transitioned from said banner onto a collage of familiar faces I hadn't seen together in a while; Addison, Polly, Francis, Henry, and Oscar waving at me.</p><p> "That."</p><p>My heart pounded, my hands shook. Meanwhile, I contained the forming knot on my stomach from the excitement. My high school friends all reunited, even if it was only a 'Skype' call reunion, it was perfect. It was difficult for all of our schedules to convex at some point due to differences in time zones and working hours.</p><p>My heart felt full. I squeezed Penelope on a tight hug thanking her multiple times for arranging the meeting. She had mentioned that it had been her idea, so she could be even with Luke planning the cake.</p><p>"Hey girl, how are you doing?" Polly asked, her always raspy voice was like honey to my ears.</p><p>"I think we should give them some space, shall we?" Prentiss ordered, yet it sounded more like a suggestion like she always managed to do.</p><p>Everyone left the room, leaving me alone with the personalities on the screen in front of me. </p><p>"I'm fine. I can't believe y'all agreed to do this."</p><p>"Your friend Penelope told us about the promotion. It had to be celebrated", Henry spoke, a subtle accent that wasn't there before. Must've been from all those years living in Germany and speaking mainly German.</p><p>It felt so weird to hear their voices and see their faces without actually having them tangibly around.</p><p>"It's no big deal." I shrugged.</p><p>"Stop saying that. I bet she has been saying that over and over again." Addison called me out. "You are a fucking FBI agent, Vivian. It is a big deal."</p><p>"Always being modest," Polly whispered.</p><p>"More like attention-whore." Oscar added a smirk slapped on his face. He looked as handsome as the last time I had seen him.</p><p>I chuckled. They knew me better than anyone else, even after all that time…we could vibe as we used to.</p><p>"Geez. Knock it off. I just figured that a simple ranking adjustment is not as exciting as other stuff in you guys' lives".</p><p>"I sell coffee machines for a living, I mean… that's not exciting at all." Francis' tired voice reflected the bags under his eyes. "Being an FBI agent, on the other hand. That's action movie worth it."</p><p>I laughed. Oh, dear. If they only knew exactly how <em>exciting my</em> job at the BAU was, they would never say that as if it was a good thing.</p><p>"I'm going to tell your wife you said your life isn't exciting." Henry teased.</p><p>"I didn't say that," Francis said quickly. </p><p>"Yes, you kinda did, bro," answered Oscar immediately, getting on Henry's side against Francis as he would always do.</p><p>"No, I didn't," Francis answered exacerbated. "I said my job isn't exciting."</p><p>"<em>Tomatoes, Toemahtoes."</em> Polly joined them, just to tease him further.</p><p>Francis sighed, already tired of fighting about the topic, then proceeded to laugh. We were grown-ups fighting like teens.</p><p>"So, are we all going to Addison's wedding?" Oscar asked, his eyes fixed on me.</p><p>Ugh, I hated that. He knew exactly how he made me feel, and he was taking advantage of that. Sure, it had been a while since we broke up, and we were no longer <em>in love</em>. But I still <em>loved him</em>. He had been a huge part of my life, and those experiences and positive moments could not just disappear. He used to be my boyfriend, but most importantly, he was my friend. Also, eyes can't lie. The guy was good looking, tanned skin, golden hair, thick eyebrows, and athletic body…every girl's dream.</p><p>"You better," Addison responded. "If not, I will personally track you and kill you."</p><p>"I don't think you should say stuff like that to an FBI agent through a video call organized by another FBI agent." Francis joked. "Right, Viv?"</p><p>"Yeah. I'll tell Penelope to make a background check just in case." I laughed. </p><p>"Don't need it, you guys are my background check."</p><p>"That's oddly sweet." </p><p>Polly let an 'awww' out.</p><p>"We will all be there, Addie, don't worry." Henry pointed. "If you guys promise to come to mine."</p><p>"No way! Dude, you finally set the date?"</p><p>"Was about time, Oscar. Henry and Leonie have been engaged for about two years." I baffled.</p><p>"So? We dated for four." Henry said.</p><p>"Not the same," I interjected.</p><p>"Could have been, though."</p><p>"I'd say to take it to the bedroom, but distance could be a little obstacle." Addison teased. "How's Kelly, by the way?"</p><p>Kelly was Oscar's girlfriend.</p><p>"Regretting, she cheated on me."</p><p>"Oh no, man, I am so sorry." Francis jumped to say.</p><p>"I never liked her, anyway." Polly shrugged her shoulders, lessening the tension.</p><p>"It's cool. Why don't we talk about the elephant in the room instead?" Oscar suggested, his goofy eyes hinted of his true intentions.</p><p>"Please don't say '<em>your mom'"</em> I squealed. I had heard Tara and Luke getting back at each other for two weeks with the same <em>crabby</em> joke.</p><p>"Your mom." They all answered in unison.</p><p>I shook my head, unable to contain my laughter. Joke as old as time, perfect for awkward situations.</p><p>"Oh, guys. Guess what." Polly said, excited. We all did. "I am launching my own YouTube channel, all fitness related. You know, since kids these days prefer that over buying workout tapes on DVD."</p><p>"That's great news."</p><p>"Love that."</p><p>"Cool. We're rooting for you."</p><p>We all supported her with kind and encouraging words. </p><p>"I love you guys so much," she added.</p><p>"Yeah, me too. I've missed talking like this with you." I confessed. "I needed it. We should do this more often."</p><p>"I agree, at least once a week, religiously."</p><p>We all agreed, but in less than a minute after, we were already having trouble finding a perfect time. They had made exceptions and special adjustments that day to get online and congratulate me. And as for me, I was always in the office or out on a case. It was not going to be as easy as 'Let's get together and talk again.'</p><p>"We'll figure it out," Francis cheered us up. "My kids always say that if you want to, you will."</p><p>"Wise kids," Polly commented.</p><p>"They certainly did not get it from their father." Oscar teased.</p><p>"Oh, Francis, how are my beautiful godson and goddaughter?" I asked, grinning.</p><p>"Yeah, Viv, go ahead, rub it in our faces once more that Francis chose you to be both of his kid's godmother."</p><p>"I already told you, Addison, Vivian is the one who lives closest to me, that's what we based our decision on."</p><p>"Ouch," I complained and scowled.</p><p>"You are not very smart, aren't you?" Henry picked up on Francis yet again.</p><p>"They are fine" Francis managed to brush off the comment and place his attention on his children. "Actually, I think I have to end it here. I have to go pick them up from school."</p><p>"Oh, well, tell them I say hi," I added.</p><p>"Sure thing! Loved to talk to y'all. Take care, goodbye".</p><p>And with that, the first one left.</p><p>"I'm gonna call it too, Viv. I got a new trainee arriving any second, and I have to prep. Are you ok with it?"</p><p>"Of course, Polly, go ahead! Have fun. And send your YouTube channel link once it is set up."</p><p>"I will, love you guys."</p><p>Polly disconnected.</p><p>"I gotta run too, Leonie and I are going out for dinner. But I love you, gals. See you soon."</p><p>Then Henry disconnected. </p><p>"He forgot to mention me," Oscar complained. "How rude."</p><p>"Oscar O'Malley!" Luke pointed to my ex-boyfriend's face on the monitor. I did not notice when he entered the room. All of our stares must have made him uncomfortable because he proceeded to grab another piece of cake and leave. "Pretend I wasn't here."</p><p>Oscar laughed. I was not used to how people would just know who he was because of being a football player. To me, it was Oscar, the kid I used to play tag with when we were 8 and my high school sweetheart. To others, it was Oscar O'Malley, the running back of the Houston Texans. I was proud of him, but it was still a little weird.</p><p>"That's my queue." He said. "Congrats, Viv. Enjoy it. Take care. Love you."</p><p>"Love you too," I answered, it was an instinct.</p><p>Addison and I were left alone. She looked concerned, yet she graciously disguised it with a soft smile. When we were teens, Addison was the central one in our friendship, she was the practical one, the brains, the mother. While I was more of winging things, doing stuff out of the spur of the moment, the heart. I was responsible and smart but was not as objective as she was, similar to my relationship with Luke. </p><p>"What?" I asked.</p><p>"I am proud of you. Really. FBI agent? Catching serial killers? That's just glorious".</p><p>Here comes the 'but.'</p><p>"But," </p><p>There it was, of course, I knew my friends. </p><p>"I don't want to get a call in the middle of the night, or whenever and listen to someone on your team telling me that my best friend died in action."</p><p>I was able to see through the screen how Addison's eyes crystalized. She exhaled deeply, finally letting out what apparently had been bugging her for a while. She was really worried about me. I understood that. We had been best friends since we were four, we had been through stuff together. She was a big part of my life, and I loved to think that I was too.</p><p>"Promise me that you will be super careful."</p><p>"I will."</p><p>"Please, I wouldn't…I don't even want to imagine that feeling of knowing that I will never see you again."</p><p>"I know how to take care of myself, I have a gun, you know?" I said with a tint of amusement in my voice in hopes of making things lighter. "Also, the most amazing minds and federal agents have my back every time I'm on the field."</p><p>"I know, just-"</p><p>"Vivian, we need to talk."</p><p>Addison's voice got interrupted by Spencer Reid's. The tall, slender guy was standing at the arch of the door. His hands fidgeting with each other, and his gaze unable to meet mine. I clenched my jaw, unaware of the action.</p><p>"Now?" I questioned.</p><p>"I think I should leave you guys. Be careful, Viv. I love you."</p><p>My best friend noticed that something was off. Spencer's nervousness and the preoccupation in my voice I failed to hide. </p><p>"Love you too, Addie."</p><p>She then turned her camera off. The screen turned into a black mirror reflecting Reid and me, standing steel a few meters from each other.</p><p>"Meet me at the parking garage after work?" He spoke, his voice was so low it almost faded to nothing.</p><p>I nodded. He did too. Spencer then left the briefing room, not even looking me in the eye once. I felt my stomach turning as unexplainable nervousness took over. Spencer had managed to take me to a full state of euphoria to distress in seconds.</p><p>And now I was incapable of enjoying myself as time went slower than usual at the expectation he had sparked.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Beta'd by cls2256.</p><p>Hi guys! I did not notice that we are halfway through this story! <br/>How are we feeling about it? <br/>From this moment on, everything will change. Place your bets, haha. </p><p>Happy Thanksgiving for those who celebrate it and please be safe. <br/>On that note, thanks for reading!</p>
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<a name="section0025"><h2>25. 24: The Early December Coldness & the Purple Scarf</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey! This chapter contains spoilers from 14x15 "Truth or Dare".  If you haven't seen it, go ahead and watch it, but please come back! If you don't mind the spoiler or have seen the episode, please, enjoy!</p><p>Btw, this is one of my favorite chapters in the entire fic. Hope you like it as much as I do.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was sitting at my desk, the last one in the room, right in the bottom right corner. Across from mine was Spencer's desk. He was sitting and staring at some papers. He had been like that since he interrupted my conversation with Addison at the briefing room.</p><p>He had been zombie-like, evasive, and absent-minded, more than his usual. I was sure that he was unaware that he got into the middle of my conversation with Addison in the first place. The only thing that settled my nervousness down a bit was that he had behaved like that around everyone else, not just me. It was not exactly personal then.</p><p>He said no words during the whole day, not to me, or anyone for that matter. I even tossed my head a little trying to check if his eyes were open or if he was asleep on multiple occasions. He was not, he was just <em>thinking</em>. </p><p>Thinking about an awful amount of things, I assumed, since he was stuck on the same page of a file for about an hour. At a particular moment, he stood up. He left his desk without taking his trusty satchel or anything else for that matter.</p><p>Time passed slowly as it did all the time I was lingering for a particular moment to arrive. Work felt tedious, confusing, and overwhelming. I was unable to focus on any detail of my work, and that only made hours go slower.</p><p>I checked the clock for the eighth time in the last hour, it was finally time to go. I stood up from my desk, tossed my essentials on my purse, grabbed my go-bag, turned off the computer, and began to walk towards the parking lot where he said we would meet. Spencer had not come back to his desk since he left a few hours prior. I was unaware if he would actually make it or was getting cold feet talking with me.</p><p>Since <em>the kiss</em>, everything had felt bizarre in a way. Our interactions were robotic and extremely diplomatic. There had not been the typical fall out while working a case, or an <em>agreed to disagree</em> moment like it usually was. We just went on with everything the other said so we could avoid further communication. Getting along well was an attempt to deceive ourselves and the others from the inherent appalling aftertaste of <em>the kiss</em>. Albeit I always got the feeling that Spencer's relationship with me was never going to be normal again, I was surprisingly pleased with that. Ignoring <em>the kiss</em> was better than confronting each other about it. It was better to have a fake Spencer than no Spencer at all.</p><p>This was way more complex than a kiss. Something that happened while in LA had affected both him and JJ, to the core. It just happened to be that JJ was better managing and dealing with emotional stress than Spencer.</p><p>I stood near my car, waiting for him. My back rested on the side of my car as my right leg bounced anxiously. As time went by, and there was no sign of him, and I began to worry. I had not seen him in a couple of hours, maybe something happened to him. Or perhaps he simply began to have second thoughts and was not as positive about talking with me about whatever he had in mind. I let my head drop over the car's door, defeated.</p><p>As disappointing as it was, my head told my heart that Spencer was not going to show up.</p><p>And just as I was about to abandon all hope, he appeared.</p><p>He jogged all the way from the elevator to where my car was parked. His shirt was half untucked, his knit greyish cardigan falling from one of his shoulders, his satchel bumping his hip as a result of the movement. When we got face-to-face, he deviated his gaze onto the floor and fixed the locks of hair that had gotten out of place during his sprint from the metal box to me.</p><p>"You should drive." He ordered.</p><p>"Where?"</p><p>"Don't know. Pick a place. A secluded, quiet place."</p><p>"You do realize how much of a serial killer you just sounded like?" I asked. </p><p>He grimaced but didn't speak a single word after. I groaned, despising myself for complying with whatever he said. I used the remote control in my car key to lifting the locks up.</p><p>"Hop in."</p><p>Spencer entered the car and sat at the passenger seat.</p><p>The tension built up with every second that went by as I drove, but no word exchange occurred. I set my mind onto Rock Creek Park since it was a secluded, quiet place — as he requested.</p><p>I kept slapping myself mentally over and over again for doing what he wanted me to do. I did not like someone else having so much power over me. I tried to convince myself that the main reason I was adhering to his orders was the mere curiosity of what he had to say—nothing else.</p><p>"We need to talk, for real." He finally said.</p><p>I turned to look at him so surprised I almost lost control of the car but handled it like a pro. He didn't flinch. I apologized, but he dismissed it.</p><p>"About what?" I questioned. </p><p>The previously explored curiosity and concern invaded my body. I gathered that he trusted me. We had had a fair share of heart-to-heart conversations in the past, and I never felt out of place, and he certainly didn't either. If he had, then he would've never talked to me again about touchy personal subjects. </p><p>I knew JJ was his best friend. She was the person he trusted the most. But if this specific thing was JJ-related, like I assumed, then he couldn't go and tell her about it. </p><p>The next best thing was me. </p><p>"I've been struggling lately with all these ideas, all these thoughts, and I am really…uneasy and confused, Vivian. I wouldn't normally tell, but honestly…" He mumbled, "I don't think I can continue keeping it cool."</p><p>I chuckled softly but forced myself to stop since it wasn't the time or place to do so. And Spencer did not find it amusing as well.</p><p>"Shame, you were doing a great job. I have been fooled," I baffled, sarcasm dripping from my words like honey. He did not dare to look my way. He was aware of his strange demeanor from the past couple of days, still, and all he was not going to apologize. Why would he have to, anyway? He was reflecting on the events that had bothered him. It was very <em>Spencery </em>for him to close up and take time to make sense of things before talking about them. </p><p>His eyes were lounging on the windshield. The view it provided him with trees and some lighting, almost in a nostalgic fashion. For a moment, I felt awful for him. </p><p>"You basically ignored every single one of us at Rossi's wedding and left the room after slicing the cake this morning. You spent hours on the same file, and then, out of nowhere, you disappeared for the rest of the day. Spencer, I think everyone knows you are not cool."</p><p>Silence.</p><p>I nagged myself for being so direct, but I couldn't help it. Au contraire to him, I believed in talking as a way to settle things, fast, right then when you feel them. Exteriorizing to me was the best approach to deal with emotions since I had to detangle them before actually putting it to words. I wanted that for him.</p><p>"I am not very good at handling my emotions…and <em>this</em>…This ended with everything I was sure about and loved." He blurted.</p><p>His voice sounded desperate and whiny in such a way that made me comprehend how big of a deal <em>this</em> was to him. I took advantage of the red light in front of me to glance at him. He did look anxious and uncomfortable. His fingers were intertwined. I was able to see how he gently squeezed them every now and then to remain calm. I realized how much courage it took him to at least tell me that pinch of information.</p><p>I had talked with Spencer before about sensitive topics regarding his life and mine without any significant problem after -obviously not taking <em>the kiss</em> into consideration. I concluded that he was comfortable talking about the past because he knew exactly how things went down, and he had control over them now.</p><p>This was different, it was something current, it had to be if he was having such a hard time talking about it. Everything was uncertain, Spencer had no clue about how things would be sorted out in the future, and that was killing him. I could tell.</p><p>I wondered if <em>the kiss</em> had anything to do with that. Initially, I had not credited his odd behavior to the kiss since we had actually acted normally afterward. Most assuredly, this was related to the LA case and JJ. It had to be. The zombie-like attitude began right after it. </p><p>"What is <em>"this,"</em> Spencer? "</p><p>He did not answer.</p><p>I suspected that he was not going to say anything else until we were at our destination. I kept driving in silence for at least twenty more minutes before arriving at Rock Creek Park. I parked and stood still, waiting for him to either approve or disapprove of my choice of setting. I look through the windshield, watching the trees and scattered wooden benches welcoming us to the park.  </p><p>"What happened in L.A, Spencer?" I asked, even though I knew it was like walking on thin ice. I was willing to do it if that meant getting to the bottom of the situation.</p><p>He exited the car and waited for me to do the same, without saying anything. I sighed loudly and hit my hands against the steering wheel, beginning to get irritated with his lack of explanations. Hopefully, I didn't mess things up and ruined the only chance I had of learning what was bothering him.</p><p>I left the car. He began to stroll. His legs were longer than mine, so it took a little bit more for me to get at his same pace. His eyes danced on the trees, the starry sky, and the ground…everything except me.</p><p>The air was getting chillier as we deepened further into the overall foliage of the park. I began to wonder if it was worth it to be there. If Spencer would dare to say something.</p><p>Oh, the things I did for this man.</p><p>"JJ told me she has always loved me."</p><p>Oh.</p><p>
  <em>OH!</em>
</p><p>Oh no.</p><p>From the way he said those words, I inferred that he didn't mean it as a friend like everybody knew, it was like something else.</p><p>JJ? Married with kids JJ? Best friend JJ? The woman he praises the most apart from his mother? </p><p>I couldn't compete with that…but why would I? <em>Not the case, Vivian</em>. If he pulled from <em>the kiss</em>, then he doesn't care. You shouldn't either.</p><p>Spencer's world was just turned upside down. I needed to focus on helping him with that. It didn't matter that he had pulled from <em>the kiss</em>, I still considered him a friend. I was not letting my own emotions stop me from attending his. Even if that meant hearing him express his love for Jennifer Jareau.</p><p>But wait a second. He looked sad. Nostalgic. I would dare to say angry too.</p><p>Was it a bad thing that JJ loved him? </p><p>It always felt like he kind of had something for her too…I had sensed it on various occasions but ultimately dismissed it since it didn't feel right. Even if it only seemed platonic.</p><p>Was he feeling bad because of Will, JJ's husband? Because of the kids? What…why was he this taken aback?</p><p>I must have had my jaw in the ground because I felt every centimeter of my mouth shut again. My frown relaxed when I heard his voice in the distance, calling my name, even though he was nearly a meter away. I must have spaced out for a moment there.</p><p>"<em>Love you</em>, love you? As in…<em>I love you</em>?"</p><p>"What?" He questioned confusion all over his face. </p><p>I cleared my throat as I tried to find a better way to explain what I meant. "You know what I am saying, not fraternal love or buddies love…like <em>love</em> love."</p><p>"Yes," He responded "She then said that she said what she had to say to throw Casey out of balance but…I…you, you weren't there Vivian. I know Jennifer. She meant it."</p><p>Oh.</p><p>But he looked heartbroken. I was so confused. It was a known secret that Spencer had a crush on JJ about ten years ago, that it escalated and blossomed as a very nurturing friendship. As much as I didn't like the idea, it always felt like those feelings lingered, but in a platonic way. </p><p>"I don't get it. What's troubling you? I thought you loved her too."</p><p>"I <em>did</em>."</p><p>He replied immediately without hesitating or even thinking. Ouch. That hurt. </p><p>"The problem lays in the verb tense."</p><p>He decelerated until he was no longer moving. I did too, attentive to his every move, for the first time in what felt like forever, his hazel eyes locked with mines.</p><p>"You see…" He began to explain. "I've known her since I was 22. I always admired her, and yes, I was in love with her for many years, hoping that she would notice me. She made it clear we were only friends but still…I couldn't give up. She was the first female in a long time who treated me like a man, not a genius boy." He shook his head, frowning. "Then she met Will, and to be honest, even then, I held on to the idea that we were meant to be something more and that someday she would realize it. The thing is that very soon she got pregnant with Henry and asked me to be his godfather. When I held him for the first time, I finally accepted that she had her own life with a great guy that loved her very much and gave her a son. I was no match for it, and even if I stood a chance, I wouldn't take it because Henry doesn't deserve it…he deserved a family, and I wasn't going to set my interests above his needs." </p><p>I paid attention to his words, taking in the story he was sharing with me. It felt like it was straight out of a romance movie. Spencer's words only confirmed how great of a man he was, giving up the woman he loved because it didn't feel right or fair to pursue her. I felt the urge to just hug him, but I didn't. He was not done yet.</p><p>"Since then, I've spent my whole life trying to agree with the idea that the connection JJ and I have is just friendship, a bond so strong due to everything we have been through together. I gave up on her…" He sighed, and I saw his eyes beginning to water, mine did too. </p><p>I was hurting because he loved JJ. But he was hurting because she loved him and didn't say a thing until now, a moment in life when everything was just complicated.</p><p>"And then…"</p><p>"Maeve came," I whispered. He nodded.</p><p>"I thought that she must've been the reason why JJ and I weren't meant to be, because Maeve and I…well, that felt more genuine than anything I have felt before." He explained with a soft smile. A smile that vanished as soon as he went on. "But then I lost her too…losing her was what took me to edge, and I convinced myself that I was going to end up alone, that my destiny was not to be loved. That thought destroyed a part of me, Vivian. I've been through so much, I felt so bad. I've alone for so much time— and <em>now</em> <em>she's</em> telling me that she has <em>always loved me</em>?" </p><p>Spencer addressed JJ, a tone to his voice I had never heard before, he was angry and resentful. His knuckles became white as he had been closing his hand hard enough to obstruct the correct blood flow. For a split second, I got scared. This wasn't the Spencer I knew. </p><p>It took a few seconds before he let go of his own fists. He managed to lay off from the unhealthy sensation and posture he had taken and returned to being himself. </p><p>"I feel betrayed, disappointed, angry, sad…" Spencer began to list the mix of feelings that had stopped him from acting like himself for the last weeks. "It makes me so sad to think that I've been arriving at an empty house all these years, feeling worthless and abandoned when there was someone out there who <em>loves me. I could've been</em> arriving at a home full of love and joy, just because she was a coward a decade ago to say something, and now doesn't dare to ruin her perfect life."</p><p>The anger he had manifested earlier became a complete state of sorrow. Spencer's face was droopy, there was not that classic shine to his eyes like he always did. The corners of his lips slightly turn downwards. </p><p>"That could've been my life…" He pointed to the air as if he was pointing in JJ's home direction. His hand slowly descended, his fist closed again. "I know it is disgusting to think that because of Henry, Michael, and Will but still… JJ let me believe that I was alone, unlovable, and didn't feel anything for me…Vivian, she saw me in my worsts suffering because of losing Maeve because of the consummating fear of being alone for the rest of my life. Still, she never had the decency to talk, all because it was the easiest way out."</p><p>"Spencer…"</p><p>I began to say, not really sure if anything I had to offer would help. It was indeed complicated. No wonder why he had been acting the way he did. </p><p>Just so much to what JJ thought was 'no biggie,' a statement worth just throwing in the air to confuse an unsub. For Spencer, it was life-changing. It was as if everything he had lived the past years had been a complete lie. </p><p>"She thinks I don't believe it." Spencer carried on. "She thinks that everything is ok, but I can't look at her without feeling this rejected and betrayed. I can't see Henry, Michael, or Will without feeling like I owe them something, and at the same time, they owe something to me too. It's just too complicated and messed up because even if I don't like admitting it, I liked hearing that she has always loved me. And it got to me so hard that it makes me wonder if I still am in love with her."</p><p>But, Spencer, you said you didn't...</p><p>"Can it be a whim?" I asked in a soft tone of voice. "I mean, you've wanted that for so long, and even though you grew out of it, now that it is presented to you many years after, you might feel like now you <em>have</em> to want it."</p><p>"That is exactly what I've been trying to figure out these weeks, why I excluded myself from all of you. I needed to discern if this confession is, in fact, making the old love resurface or if it is just me being angry and wanting to want it now that I know I got a shot." He explained, his words leaving his mouth in a rush. "But it isn't love, Vivian. I am just petty and childish because it turns out that I -That you..." He began to stutter.</p><p>"What?" I interrupted him with my eyes popping.</p><p>Oh, no. <em>The kiss</em> had something to do with Spencer's uneasy mindset. No doubt. I wasn't sure that I was ready to deal with it at this precise moment. I had learned too much in too little time, and I was still processing it. Detangling <em>the kiss</em> would only make things worse. <em>The kiss</em> was probably the only emotional issue I felt it was better not to vent aloud. This had something to do with me, as well. I felt bad for JJ to cause mayhem in Spencer's heart and brain. I felt even worse knowing I did too. </p><p>Spencer's agitated breaths slowed down. He had been hastening his words up to that moment. He closed his eyes, trying to build up his confidence. He lowered his head, his bouncy brown locks of hair made it hard for me to see his face.</p><p>"I am sorry…" he whispered, his voice was raspy.</p><p>"Sorry?"</p><p>What was he apologizing for? I was the one who needed to apologize if his confusion and discomfort were my faults.</p><p>"I am not good handling nor expressing my emotions…" He mumbled.</p><p>We stood there in silence, me staring at his messy hair, his untidy clothes, and his fidgety fingers. He stared at the ground.</p><p>"<em>I think</em> I want you, Vivian. Heck, <em>I know I want you.</em>"</p><p>He finally said. Spencer's hazel eyes were shining with uncertainty and a tint of hope. He was hoping I felt the same way. </p><p>I was speechless. </p><p>And aware of the amount of courage and bravery it took Spencer Reid to say those words.</p><p>Though mesmerized with his confession, I was confused about many other matters. Like, why did he pull from the kiss? Why did he act so strange afterward? </p><p>"Since you first entered my classroom… I've been conscious of your presence and liked it. I didn't know then, but I know it now; you are a beautiful woman, you are charming and intelligent…but mostly you are a <em>wet noodle, </em>like me."</p><p>Soft laughter accompanied his words at the recollection of the odd metaphor I used when talking with him about my dating persona. I smiled a little too.</p><p>"These past months, I've been strangely happy. And it took me a while, but I finally narrowed it down to your presence being the reason I feel…alive. You don't care that I am the way I am. You didn't give up on me, even after I was a jerk to you. You listen to me without judging. You notice me. Not the FBI agent or the genius. Me", He emphasized. "I crave to get to work to hear you talk about how you believe that Bandura's social cognitive theory is actually the most convincing regarding personality, to listen to you fighting with Luke to establish if Star Wars is better than Harry Potter. Or just to smell your perfume once more." </p><p>I caught myself using the knuckle of my index finger to clear a tear before it could make its way down my cheeks. These weren't sad tears. They were happy, heart-warming tears. </p><p>No one in my entire life had ever said anything remotely similar to me.</p><p>"I told you so much about me in so little time. The last person I could talk with the way I feel comfortable talking with you was Maeve…and I am not comparing", He jumped to clarify. "It is just that I finally know the signs. And I want you, Vivian."</p><p>I fidgeted with my fingers and then with my car keys, which never left my hand. I was perplexed. Oh. Spencer <em>liked me</em> like he actually liked me. Not as friends, as colleagues, or as his student. He <em>romantically liked me</em>. He wanted me. </p><p>I stared at his eyes, trying to figure out if he meant it. It was too good to be true. But then again, he wasn't the type of person who would say something like that out of anger or because he wanted to get back at JJ. I witnessed how hard of a time he had trying to express his feelings so it wouldn't make sense for him to say something with a substantial value without meaning it. </p><p>He began to look nervous, and I realized it was because I was overthinking.</p><p>"Spence…" I began talking.</p><p>My mind and heart were racing to find the right words to express my emotions correctly. I was too tangled right now. It was too much to digest.</p><p>"I know this is out of character for me, but if I learned something all of these years, especially after JJ's confession, is that if I have feelings for someone, I should express them. I should try to enjoy every single moment with them because life is messy, random…one second we are here, and the other we are not."</p><p>He was right. It was not like him to just profess his emotions like that. He was also right saying that we couldn't afford to waste time pretending to not care or trying to do was socially correct, or what we were supposed to do.</p><p>I felt an indescribable pain on my chest when he was held hostage by Casey in LA, I almost lost him, and with that, the opportunity for something beautiful to flourish.</p><p>Everyone should be able to be with who they want to be when they want to…foremost, people like us, who put their lives at risk daily because their job requires them to help others and save people. Just as Spencer said, there was always a high chance that the case we were working in could potentially be the last.</p><p>I wanted him too. Had struggled to shake off the idea of him as something more than a possible friend. When he was my teacher and got the fizzing feeling approaching, I told myself first that I only looked up to him, because of everything he had done at the FBI and as a scholar. Then, when we began to work together, I convinced myself that it was merely a tiny itty bit of a crush. I had to almost lose him to death to finally accept that there was so much to it than just a childish crush. That I wanted him, seriously. </p><p>I attributed my denial too to all the red flags of a possible romantic relationship between us. He treated me <em>crabby</em> for a certain period in which he tried to scare me away from the BAU. He had made me feel weird after he pulled away from <em>the kiss</em>. We were co-workers. Oh, there was the age gap as well. </p><p>"Then why did you pull away?"</p><p>I questioned. My answer to his confession depended on what he had to say on the topic. I had been trying to avoid a conversation about <em>the kiss</em>, but now, it was the only thing I cared for. I would make the difference between Spencer, meaning his words, or just saying them to hurt JJ somehow.</p><p>His brows knitted together. I could hear the gears of his brain spinning as he tried to recall what I was talking about. Really? He had not been thinking about that? Unbelievable.</p><p>"<em>The kiss."</em></p><p>Spencer's posture changed at the mention of said event. His back straightened, his head fully lifted, and his jaw clenched. He flickered his eyes, which he commonly did whenever he struggled with finding adequate words to express himself correctly or simply because he lacked them.</p><p>"I was afraid."</p><p>"Afraid?" I gasped in disbelief.</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"You pulled away. Not me, Reid."</p><p>I suddenly felt myself getting angry. Resentful, because he liked me and did not have the decency to tell me. I was having difficulty behaving normally after the kiss. It had been tough and, in a way, suffocating. I thought he was aware of that, but he was obviously oblivious of the impact <em>the kiss </em>had on me. He let me believe I was not reciprocated.</p><p>Oh. The irony of it all.</p><p>I had been spending a little less than a month of feeling rejected by him. Spencer had spent a decade feeling rejected by JJ.</p><p>JJ's confession and the emotions and mental pain that it sprung up were why Spencer chose to tell me that he liked me. He did not want me to go through the same thing he did for any longer, in case I felt the same about him.</p><p>Perhaps Spencer had been toying with the idea of letting me know about his feelings for Lord knows how long, but never came to terms with it. Maybe, without JJ's revelation, he would've never said anything. He had secluded himself so he could think with clarity what the right move was. Because of what he felt, he decided that telling me was in everyone's best interest.</p><p>My gaze met Spencer's. He was hurting about multiple things, I could tell. He was now also afraid that he had messed things up by opening about the way he felt.</p><p>Ugh. I could not be mad at him for not expressing this earlier. He always fought with his emotions, and it was not fair for me to judge him so hard on it. Not everyone was open to talking all the time about how they were feeling.</p><p>"I was afraid because that kiss felt like I was taking advantage of you." He elaborated.</p><p>Spencer gulped so hard I could see with clarity his Adam's apple move up and down. His breathing began to accelerate as he grew more emotional by the second. His jaw was still tight, and his hands rubbed his face.</p><p>"You were sentimental, a little drunk, and I hated the idea that the only reason you kissed me back was that I made you feel pity for me after everything I told you."</p><p>"I wasn't drunk." I lied without getting him to buy it. "And I did not feel pity for you, Spencer."</p><p>"Then what do you call that?"</p><p>"Empathy."</p><p>I sighed and felt my frown relaxing. I was not aware of it being crumpled in the first place. But I had not been aware of a lot of things during that whole conversation. I took two steps, enough for me to be only a few centimeters away from Spencer. He stood still, watching my every move but incapable of doing anything else.</p><p>"You were hurting, so I hurt too. I kissed you because I wanted to, Spencer, not because you made me feel like I was supposed to."</p><p>"You wanted to?"</p><p>My hands found their way over his shoulders, my thumb stroked the fabric of his cardigan gently as I lifted my head so our faces could meet only a light breeze between us. He bowed a little too to shorten the distance the difference in heights created. Though we were not touching, the points of our noses were close enough to conduct some sort of electricity in all my body. </p><p>"Mm-hmm."</p><p>"Then, let's try it again." He suggested with a tint of shakiness in his voice.</p><p>Daringly, he cupped my face in his hands, and for the second time, his lips touched mine. This time in a kiss that felt more real, meaningful, softer, longer…</p><p>I felt my heart beating so hard and fast it could've easily fallen out of my chest. I found myself trying to get on the tip of my toes to get even closer to him. My hands moved to the lower part of his scalp and continued to fondle with his skin and hair, simultaneously he caressed my cheeks.</p><p>I didn't care about Virginia's cold nearly winter air or the fact that we were standing alone in the middle of a deserted park surrounded only by trees and crickets. He made me feel warm and safe. This had been what my subconscious wanted all along. I stopped it from externalizing it only because I was too scared of having my heartbroken. I wondered if Spencer felt that way also. In the end, it wasn't that what mattered, the only important thing was that we were now living in the present, enjoying each other's grip.</p><p>I felt like fainting, but not because of the emotions, it was lack of air. Holy moly, I had not realized it had been that long. I stepped back slowly, my eyes were shut still as a broad smile took over my visage, and the proper amount of air filled my lungs.</p><p>A part of me was timorous that when I opened my eyes, everything would've been just a dream. It didn't feel like that, it felt tangible and real, but still…</p><p>When I gathered the courage to open my eyes, I met Spencer's. A smirk across his face. Genius and all, but still a man. I couldn't help but laugh a little. He licked his lips, and as a consequence, I did too. </p><p>Mirroring was a normal thing amongst people that liked each other. It was possible that Spencer and I had been imitating each other's actions for a while but didn't notice it. I had studied all about it when I was coursing my psych BA. It could be a double-edged sword. A good thing, really, since it created empathetic bonds and terrible things because it could lead to a loss of personality.</p><p>The weight of his gaze made me look down for a second. He was making me nervous. <em>Spencer Reid</em> was making <em>me </em>nervous. And not exactly because I looked up to him.</p><p>"I want you too, Spencer, if that didn't make it obvious."</p><p>I giggled and walked back a few steps into a more comfortable distance. Spencer laughed too and nodded, letting me know that he was fully aware that he was reciprocated. He proceeded and scratched the lower part of his scalp twitching his mouth to the left in a very <em>Spencery</em> grimace.</p><p>"What are we going to do about it?"</p><p>"About what?" I questioned, a bit confused about exactly what he was asking. </p><p>"You know…I like you, you like me."</p><p>I agreed, bobbing my head slowly. I knew now what he meant, precisely what he wanted, and I was going to let him say it. I figured it was a little evil to do so after all the effort Spencer had to put into the open about how he felt about me. Still, I just wanted to be a hundred percent certain that we were on the same page.</p><p>"Should we…?" His nose shrugged, a sign that he was getting out of his comfort zone by pronouncing the following word. "Date?"</p><p>"That's what you want?"</p><p>"I'd love that, yeah."</p><p>"Then, yeah."</p><p>The corners of my lips lifted, his did too.</p><p>I was so wrong when I thought in the morning that the day couldn't get any better. It got better, way better than I could've ever imagined. </p><p>The whole idea of dating Spencer was exciting, to see how good of a match we actually were. See where it would take us. I had a pretty positive mindset because I knew how I felt, and I also knew how Spencer felt. He could be a little hard to read, but once he put himself out, it was because he was utterly sure of his feelings. He was not the type of guy to just say things like that, he took romantic affairs seriously due to his slim discouraging experience regarding them. </p><p>Also, I was comfortable around him. I felt that we understood each other so that at least I considered to be more real and intimate than with most people around me. Spencer had also been very patient with all of my childish breakdowns and cared to listen even if he had bigger problems. Yes, he had been an <em>a-hole</em> when I first joined the BAU, but even then, he only was trying to protect me, and he kept doing that every single moment after.</p><p>His heart had gone through so much with losing Maeve, and then JJ telling him that she had loved him all along, all I wanted to do was make up for it. </p><p>We deserved to give each other a chance.</p><p>And due to the nature of our job, the closeness of our team, I knew that keeping things 'chill' was going to be hard as<em> frog</em>. I needed it to be chill at least while we figured things out. I did not want Spencer to get scared away or feel overwhelmed.</p><p>"If we are doing this, let's not tell anyone."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>Spencer didn't seem thrilled at the idea of hiding that we were dating. His brows scrounged together as his eyes narrowed. Perhaps he thought that I was embarrassed or something like that. Thus I rushed to explain myself further.</p><p>"I would not like to feel the pressure of any sort." My words were not convincing. I tilted my head as I came up with better justification. "Think about it. Penelope constantly asking us awkward questions, Luke finding a double meaning to everything we say. Rossi openly giving us dating advice, JJ feeling uneasy at our presence. Tara picking on us at every chance she gets, and Prentiss constantly reminding us that we are still co-workers. If something goes slightly wrong, one of us has to leave. I know it's not going to be you."</p><p>Spencer nodded for a second as he took in the most likely scenario of our colleagues' reaction if they knew we were dating.</p><p>"You are right. I just…I told you this because I didn't want to keep things to myself anymore, and now I have to do it again."</p><p>"I know, I am sorry, but it just…" I apologized. "it's going to get weird and complicated if they know, and honestly, I want us to figure things out first."</p><p>I walked a few steps to shorten the already brief distance between us, reached to grab his hair and stroke it softly. Spencer's hazel eyes were shiny, his overall visage read as calm. I was glad he felt that way after the avalanche of emotions he experienced earlier.</p><p>"I am not saying that if this works out, we will always keep it on the down-low."</p><p>"Yeah, I get it. I don't want Emily to consider us unfit to work together" He complimented what I was trying to say. "It would be a shame to drift apart as soon as we started getting closer."</p><p>I agreed with him. I knew that if we told Prentiss, even if she would be flexible about the situation, it was her job to avoid personal issues and conflicts of interest. I was aware that the Bureau had a regulation that prohibited romantic affairs between a Supervisor and a subordinate. Since I got officially promoted to SSA, Spencer and I were now considered the same level of the FBI hierarchy. So technically, the regulation was not applicable in our case. Still, it was just a bit unprofessional and out of the ordinary to suddenly present ourselves as a couple at the office.</p><p>I also dreaded the idea of suddenly being known as 'Dr. Reid's girlfriend' or The girl who managed to get boy genius' attention. Instead of SSA Vivian Contreras, the 27-year-old who works at the Behavioral Analysis Unit tracking down serial killers. I had worked really hard to accept my own kind of success to randomly be demeaned into someone else's accessory. I was sure that the team was not going to be one of those who saw it like that, but everyone else in Quantico or even the FBI would blast the gossip of the year. And as usual, the woman is the one who ends up being dragged.</p><p>I slapped myself mentally for overthinking about what others would say about Spencer and me dating. We had not even started yet formally, and I was already upset.</p><p>Enjoy yourself, Vivian. <em>For once.</em></p><p>I hugged myself by instinct as a chilly air stream blew between the trees at Rock Creek's Park. I hadn't known to pack a heavier coat this morning, so I was in barely a thin sweater. Spencer noticed me shiver. He was also not dressed with the proper outwear to affront the cold Virginia air. Yet, he searched in his satchel that he had been carrying all that time for something. He took out a purple scarf, all balled and rumpled. He gave me an apologetic look as he untangled the piece of fabric so he could proceed to place it on my neck. I flinched as soon as the neckwear touched my skin. Since the Dirk Henson incident, where I almost died from asphyxiation, I had not been exactly fond of tight things around my neck. He was aware of it even before I reacted the way I did and kept it loose.</p><p>"Thank you," I mumbled.</p><p>Spencer nodded, reassuring me once more. "We should head back. It's getting cooler by the second. I wouldn't want you to get sick."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter beta'd by cls2256.</p><p>Honest to God, I did not plan the fics timeline to match irl publication dates, lol. </p><p>Soooo, this is happening, everything I've put them through is finally paying off. Hope you like the direction this is taking. I promise we're far from done. </p><p>Anyways, thanks for reading. I really appreciate you taking the time to read this thing I wrote as a coping mechanism of real life, haha. </p><p>Ps: If you're into holiday and Christmas fluff, I'm currently having a little something going on called "My Christmas Jukebox", which is basically 12 one shots inspired by 12 of my favorite Christmas songs. They are also Criminal Minds and most of them are Spencer centered. First one is already up, I'll be posting every other day.</p><p>Thanks again! And sorry for the long author notes. <br/>Happy holidays to y'all and please be safe.<br/>All the love, A.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. 25: Donde Habitan los Ángeles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! <br/>This chapter includes spoilers from 11x08 "Awake." It is treated as an old case from the BAU.  <br/>If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend you do! </p><p>Thank you! Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I rushed up the stairs of my apartment building. Chamomile, my golden retriever, had been dragging me along for the last two blocks. He did that every time after we were for a run, it was his way of hurrying me up so I would give him his regular treat— chopped fruit.</p>
<p>"Slow down, buddy."</p>
<p>I was unable to maintain much resilience from his innate instinct of pulling. His paws thudded against the hardwood stairs, and I grabbed the railing in an attempt to stay on my feet, struggling to climb the last few steps. I always leashed Chamomile around people. Not because I didn't trust him, but because I was afraid that his overly amiable personality would get him in trouble with the wrong people.</p>
<p>When I finally made it up, I was able to see Spencer standing just a few meters away from my apartment's door. He was in his regular working clothes. His trusty satchel crossed over his shoulder and chest, his brown hair slightly more put together than usual. I scowled, feeling like a complete moron for forgetting that we were supposed to grab breakfast together before work.</p>
<p>Chamomile found his way towards our home's entrance. He barked at Spencer (who he considered an intruder) a few times before taking his time sniffing him and then settling that he was not a threat to him or me. Spencer had stayed motionless at my dog's recognition process. It was the first time they met, and I was kind of pleased with the way it turned out. It was also his first time at my apartment.</p>
<p>"Hey bud," He chanted as he softly petted my overly friendly, not scary at all, furry friend. "Hey, Viv."</p>
<p>"Hey, Spence."</p>
<p>I grabbed the door's keys and headed towards it.</p>
<p>"Great, I was beginning to wonder if I had to call the police. Who's your friend, Viv?"</p>
<p>Jamie's voice made me turn around. Her head peeked out of her door just enough to see us standing in the hallway.</p>
<p>"Ah, Jamie, this is Spencer, Spencer, this is Jamie."</p>
<p>Spencer raised his hand to a chest-level as a greeting. Jamie lifted her chin a bit as her way to say "hi" to him as well.</p>
<p>"Dr. Reid, huh? Nice to finally meet you."</p>
<p>I cast a heated glance at my friend and neighbor, daring her to say another word on the subject. Jamie had heard about Spencer, ever since I had him as a teacher, I told him how cute I thought he was, how smart he was, and that I was glad I enrolled in his class. Then when I joined the BAU, she had to listen to me ramble about how caring, shrewd, and how he behaved during a case. I also let her know about <em>the kiss</em>, and it's a much better sequel at Rock Creek Park.</p>
<p>As much as I loved Luke and considered him my adult best friend, I could not tell him about Spencer. For many reasons, from my fear of his constant jokes on the matter, it was <em>me</em> who suggested keeping it a secret for everyone on the team, including our besties. So Jamie was the way to go. She already knew a big chunk of the story, so it was actually easy to share the development with her.</p>
<p>"Likewise." He answered.</p>
<p>"He's cute."</p>
<p>"Jamie!"</p>
<p>Spencer let a soft giggle out as a reddish tone tainted his cheeks. He was unable to meet Jamie's eyes or even mine after my friend's unexpected compliment.</p>
<p>"Alright, alright. I'll let you guys be." She chuckled, proud of the tension she had created. "This isn't over, though." Said as she closed her door behind her.</p>
<p>"Thanks, Jamie, by the way, you are late for work!"</p>
<p>"You too!"</p>
<p>I heard her shout from inside her apartment. I shook my head, astonished about the nerve she had on mentioning or implying specific stuff to Spencer. I felt my cheeks burning, too, as a feeling of embarrassment took over me. I managed to finally open my door, Chamomile was the first to step inside.</p>
<p>"You forgot."</p>
<p>"No, I didn't." My voice slightly in a higher pitch than usual. A classic handbook sign that someone's lying.</p>
<p>"It's ok, Vivian, we are still on time."</p>
<p>"I'm sorry. I'll just take a shower quickly, and we'll be out before you can say '<em>Pedrito clavó un clavito'"</em>. I playfully added.</p>
<p>"Predito calvo a what?"</p>
<p>"Exactly, come in."</p>
<p>I stepped aside, letting him go first. He hesitated first but ultimately did. He stood awkwardly near the door as he took in every detail of the place. I was aware that it was impossible not to profile everyone around him, so I brushed it off.</p>
<p>What else could he get from my apartment that he did not already know? </p>
<p>The place was more of a loft with an open concept. The walls were white, a few fake plants here and there, a big built-in furniture piece that doubled as a shelf for my vast collection of books and DVDs and a T.V. stand all tied up with a big black couch. The kitchen had an exposed brick wall beneath the black counters, and all the neutral colors contrasted with the few splashes of color. The overall décor proportioned with candles, photographs, pillows, and art pieces. The space was a little messy, I usually did not have time to tidy it before going for my morning run. I did it after getting from work if I had time to do so.</p>
<p>I cringed a little at the sight of my mint color comforter and stuffed panda over the couch. I had spent the night before watching movies and cuddling there with Chamomile. I hoped Spencer didn't find it shameful or something.</p>
<p>I closed the door behind me. Left my keys in the regular bowl I had over a table near the house entrance where I left my purse. I walked towards the kitchen, foremost, to chop some fruit for Chamomile and then to make us some coffee.</p>
<p>"Make yourself comfortable. Coffee?"</p>
<p>Spencer nodded in agreement. His hazel eyes still fixated in every item I owned. His hands were lazily hanging inside his pants' pockets.</p>
<p>"I didn't know you were such an avid reader."</p>
<p>"Most of them are novels, though."</p>
<p>"Still…you have titles I've never read before."</p>
<p>I finished filling the cups, added milk to mine, and grabbed the sugar container so Spencer could help himself. I gave him his cup and left the sugar over the living room table.</p>
<p>"Maybe you can read a few while I get ready."</p>
<p>"You bet I will." He placed his mug over the table too as he whispered all the titles in my collection in less than thirty seconds, until he settled for one. "May I?"</p>
<p>"Of course. Suit yourself. Imma head to the shower." </p>
<p>I only heard a simple 'mm-hmm' coming from him as I walked towards my bedroom. He was most assuredly already burying his nose on the publication. I chuckled softly, 20,000 words per minute were no joke.</p>
<p>After carefully choosing my clothes, I hopped into the shower. I tried to follow my regular routine as fast as possible, so I wouldn't make Spencer wait longer. I felt bad about forgetting breakfast. We settled it late at night the day prior when I was sleepier than awake. Then when I woke up, I just went ahead with my regular morning. I was used to doing things by myself, even if I didn't like it.</p>
<p>I got into a pair of jeans, dark enough to pass as regular formal pants with a black belt, an oversized gray sweater tucked in, and my regular black booties. I pitifully blow-dried my hair, not wanting to risk its wetness, becoming a reason to catch a cold during the increasingly cold D.C. weather. I added a pop of makeup to avoid the living-dead look my face naturally acquired when the heat ceased. I was a hot weather gal with naturally tanned skin. Lack of sun or warmth made me look sick, even if I wasn't. Finally, I dropped some perfume on the regular spots, under my hair and wrists.</p>
<p>I tossed a few things on my go-bag since I had tampered with it during the last case and had procrastinated to refill it. Once I was done, I grabbed it and reentered the living room. Spencer sat hunched, his eyes scurrying over the pages of what seemed like his fourth book, given the other three titles scattered over the coffee table. He flipped pages faster than I could blink. Still, he managed to find a moment to give his drink a sip.</p>
<p>"All set, shall we?"</p>
<p>"Give me two minutes, almost done."</p>
<p>I said nothing, mesmerized by the way he whispered certain words that his brain registered as crucial for understanding the story. The sound of the paper being turned gained a certain rhythm due to the pace he adopted. Before I could even notice, he was closing the publication and standing up to rearrange the books he took out of their place. I took a moment to read the titles he had chosen.</p>
<p>“You read <em>’Donde Habitan los Ángeles’</em>?” </p>
<p>"Yes, such a heartbreaking story."</p>
<p>"You speak Spanish, Spence?"</p>
<p>"No." I must've looked really confused because he went on. "I can read it. I just cipher the overall language morphology and syntaxes, connect patterns, and infer the words I don't necessarily know with the context of the story. It is not that hard, actually."</p>
<p>There it was, classic Spencer Reid minimizing his crazy abilities. I smiled sweetly at him. He rushed himself to the kitchen to wash the mug he had been drinking from before leaving. I was about to tell him that I could do it later, but a sharp sound from our phones, knowingly related to our job, made us both freeze.</p>
<p>I groaned, conscious about what that meant. Regardless, I checked the message coming from our unit's chief, Prentiss.</p>
<p>"We got a case."</p>
<p>Spencer tilted his head, his eyes reflected tediousness. It didn't matter that we were an hour and a half away from our regular check-in time, having a case meant we needed to be at Quantico ASAP. So much for a quiet breakfast with Spencer. Interrupted dates, canceled plans, bad timing, guessed all of that awaited us from dating and working at the Behavioral Analysis Unit.</p>
<p>We left my apartment, not without saying the proper goodbye to Chamomile. We hopped into my car since Spencer went to my house using the subway and then walking. He wasn't very eager to drive unless it was absolutely necessary.</p>
<p>Half an hour later and some seriously bad driving skills, courtesy of Luke's influence on me, we arrived at Quantico's headquarters. We got out of the car and headed the elevator that only took us as far as the main building lobby. Every agent needed to register their keycard every time they arrived. As we walked through security, I heard Tara's voice calling us.</p>
<p>"Hey, guys." She said as soon as she caught up with us. "Drove together today?"</p>
<p>"What? Why would you think that?"</p>
<p>Lewis squinted, alternating her gaze over me and then Spencer, several times. We had been successfully keeping it on the down-low for a week, did a matter of three seconds today really blow our cover?</p>
<p>"Because I saw you stepping out of Vivian's car at the garage." She shrugged her shoulders, as it was not a big deal, yet I knew it was. Her clinical eyes had seen something the rest hadn't noticed yet. "I think that's cool, save gas, money and the environment."</p>
<p>"Yeah. My sentiment exactly."</p>
<p>I responded, gave Spencer a quick glance in hopes he would relax a bit. He smiled apprehensively as he bobbed his head, coinciding with me. Security cleared us, as usual, and we directed ourselves to one of the two elevators available. The ride up to the sixth floor felt eternal. None of us said a thing, as Tara stood between us the entire time.</p>
<p>As soon as the metal doors opened, the three of us exited and crossed the second pair of glass-made entering the BAU.</p>
<p>"Good morning, good morning, good morning, three of my favorite people on Earth" Penelope greeted us, carrying her classic orange octopus mug. As if it wasn't an impediment, she semi-hugged each one of us. </p>
<p>"Emily's already waiting for us at the briefing room.</p>
<p>We followed her, no time spared to answer to her welcoming words.</p>
<p>"Good morning, guys, take a seat. Please, we need to start."</p>
<p>I took my <em>usual</em> spot between Spencer and Luke. I counted heads around the room; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven…one was missing.</p>
<p>"Is Rossi still at his honeymoon?" I giggled.</p>
<p>"Affirmative, and he will be the following week as well." Prentiss's eyebrows danced suggestively. Seconds later, her face went back to her regular sober visage. "So we are on our own on this, –Penelope."</p>
<p>"Oh, captain, my captain. Let me introduce you little Elena Tilly, she's six years old, and she went missing yesterday around dawn."</p>
<p>The girl's picture showed up on the screen. Reddish hair, curly, freckles all over her face. The posture and the subtle smirk that adorned her read as the kind of kid who would get away with mischievous deeds and always make mom and dad skip a beat. Still, Elena was just a kid.</p>
<p>"Why are we learning about this now, twenty-four first hours are crucial, we're past that." J.J. pointed out, her mama bear side notoriously taking over.</p>
<p>"Local P.D. thought they got it covered. Their first thought was that Elena ran away. The family was traveling from San Antonio to Tempe. On their way they went by a small farm, Elena said that he wanted to see 'the pretty horses,' the parents didn't give in." Prentiss carried on.</p>
<p>"So the police assumed she was going to see the pretty horses," I inferred.</p>
<p>Prentiss nodded but Penelope interjected. "Correct. It was not until mom, Annalise Tilly, mentioned that they lingered at a rest stop at some point during their journey due to the heavy rain. A man approached them, telling them about how their tail lights were out." Penelope continued. "When asked for any particular signs, she mentioned the guy had a skull tattoo, ring any bells?" </p>
<p>No answer. </p>
<p>"Anybody?"</p>
<p>"Yes," Lewis said. "When I first joined, we worked on a case in Arizona; a dad abducted several men trying to find the person responsible for killing his little girl. He believed it had been a guy with a skull tattoo in his hand and wanted to find him."</p>
<p>As Lewis's recollection became more vivid, her face changed. She was suddenly overwhelmed with a mix of guilt, shame, and a tad of anger.</p>
<p>I looked at the rest of my colleague's faces, no one else seemed to know what she was talking about, except for Penelope and J.J., whose jaw dropped to the floor. Must've been during a time none of the rest of us were in the BAU. It seemed weird to me that Spencer was clueless about what Lewis was talking about. As far as I was concerned, he was the sole member of the BAU, along with Penelope, that had been working there uninterruptedly for the last 13 years.</p>
<p>"We all believed the guy with the skull tattoo was only a hallucination product of his sleep deprivation," J.J. muttered. Her face mimicked Tara's feelings of guilt.</p>
<p>"I knew he was real," Lewis said under her breath. Then gave Jennifer a cold-dead glimpse.</p>
<p>The blonde woman gulped, as she knew that Lewis was about to blame her, among the former team members for not looking deeper into the matter.</p>
<p>"We could've not known for sure…"</p>
<p>"It doesn't matter now. What matters is that Arizona P.D. made the connection with William Taylor's claims too, and they want us in this." Prentiss stepped in before things got heated. "They know that if we don't find Elena in the next twenty-two hours, the probabilities of not finding her alive are off the roof."</p>
<p>"This guy must've done this several times before. I don't think any serial killer has a dormant period of two years within each kill."</p>
<p>"Actually, you'd been surprised, Alvez. We've seen cases in which the killer's dormant period extends to decades. Just take the BTK killer as an example, he waited eight years after killing Nancy Fox to murder Marine Hedge." Spencer threw at Luke. "But with children involved, the likelihood of him being a pedophile is high, and in that case, he wouldn't be able to control his urges very long."</p>
<p>"So I am right, no long dormant period for this guy?"</p>
<p>"Essentially, yes. Were there any signs of abuse on William Taylor's daughter?"</p>
<p>"No, she was pretty beaten but nothing sexual." Tara pointed.</p>
<p>"The act itself is not necessary for a person to get off. He is not touching the children like that. Still, even by hitting them, he may experience sexual gratification, thus making him a pedophile."</p>
<p>"Contreras's right." J.J. yielded. "He doesn't need to abuse them to get off. Paraphilias don't always include the sexual act. Still, they come with compulsive behavior, meaning that he probably couldn't resist doing it on various occasions in the past couple of years. Garcia…"</p>
<p>Penelope was already typing at the speed of light on her laptop. "I'm going back for five years."</p>
<p>"Make that ten, I don't want to leave any stone unturned," Prentiss ordered.</p>
<p>"Also, narrow it down to abductions that took place somewhere at Interstate 10." Lewis contributed, she was aware of something we ignored. "That's where Tatiana, William Taylor's daughter, was abducted, and her remains were found weeks later."</p>
<p>Penelope nodded as she recovered the information that was being thrown at her.</p>
<p>"Already running it, it's going to take a while though, there's too much data to go through."</p>
<p>Prentiss nodded and looked at us. "Time's of the essence. Wheels up in 10."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter beta'd by cls2256.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. 26: Donde Habitan los Ángeles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello!<br/>This chapter includes spoilers from 11x08 "Awake." It is treated as an old case from the BAU.<br/>If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend you do! </p><p>Thank you! Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I rushed up the stairs of my apartment building. Chamomile, my golden retriever, had been dragging me along for the last two blocks. He did that every time after we were for a run, it was his way of hurrying me up so I would give him his regular treat— chopped fruit.</p><p>"Slow down, buddy."</p><p>I was unable to maintain much resilience from his innate instinct of pulling. His paws thudded against the hardwood stairs, and I grabbed the railing in an attempt to stay on my feet, struggling to climb the last few steps. I always leashed Chamomile around people. Not because I didn't trust him, but because I was afraid that his overly amiable personality would get him in trouble with the wrong people.</p><p>When I finally made it up, I was able to see Spencer standing just a few meters away from my apartment's door. He was in his regular working clothes. His trusty satchel crossed over his shoulder and chest, his brown hair slightly more put together than usual. I scowled, feeling like a complete moron for forgetting that we were supposed to grab breakfast together before work.</p><p>Chamomile found his way towards our home's entrance. He barked at Spencer (who he considered an intruder) a few times before taking his time sniffing him and then settling that he was not a threat to him or me. Spencer had stayed motionless at my dog's recognition process. It was the first time they met, and I was kind of pleased with the way it turned out. It was also his first time at my apartment.</p><p>"Hey bud," He chanted as he softly petted my overly friendly, not scary at all, furry friend. "Hey, Viv."</p><p>"Hey, Spence."</p><p>I grabbed the door's keys and headed towards it.</p><p>"Great, I was beginning to wonder if I had to call the police. Who's your friend, Viv?"</p><p>Jamie's voice made me turn around. Her head peeked out of her door just enough to see us standing in the hallway.</p><p>"Ah, Jamie, this is Spencer, Spencer, this is Jamie."</p><p>Spencer raised his hand to a chest-level as a greeting. Jamie lifted her chin a bit as her way to say "hi" to him as well.</p><p>"Dr. Reid, huh? Nice to finally meet you."</p><p>I cast a heated glance at my friend and neighbor, daring her to say another word on the subject. Jamie had heard about Spencer, ever since I had him as a teacher, I told him how cute I thought he was, how smart he was, and that I was glad I enrolled in his class. Then when I joined the BAU, she had to listen to me ramble about how caring, shrewd, and how he behaved during a case. I also let her know about <em>the kiss</em>, and it's a much better sequel at Rock Creek Park.</p><p>As much as I loved Luke and considered him my adult best friend, I could not tell him about Spencer. For many reasons, from my fear of his constant jokes on the matter, it was <em>me</em> who suggested keeping it a secret for everyone on the team, including our besties. So Jamie was the way to go. She already knew a big chunk of the story, so it was actually easy to share the development with her.</p><p>"Likewise." He answered.</p><p>"He's cute."</p><p>"Jamie!"</p><p>Spencer let a soft giggle out as a reddish tone tainted his cheeks. He was unable to meet Jamie's eyes or even mine after my friend's unexpected compliment.</p><p>"Alright, alright. I'll let you guys be." She chuckled, proud of the tension she had created. "This isn't over, though." Said as she closed her door behind her.</p><p>"Thanks, Jamie, by the way, you are late for work!"</p><p>"You too!"</p><p>I heard her shout from inside her apartment. I shook my head, astonished about the nerve she had on mentioning or implying specific stuff to Spencer. I felt my cheeks burning, too, as a feeling of embarrassment took over me. I managed to finally open my door, Chamomile was the first to step inside.</p><p>"You forgot."</p><p>"No, I didn't." My voice slightly in a higher pitch than usual. A classic handbook sign that someone's lying.</p><p>"It's ok, Vivian, we are still on time."</p><p>"I'm sorry. I'll just take a shower quickly, and we'll be out before you can say '<em>Pedrito clavó un clavito'"</em>. I playfully added.</p><p>"Predito calvo a what?"</p><p>"Exactly, come in."</p><p>I stepped aside, letting him go first. He hesitated first but ultimately did. He stood awkwardly near the door as he took in every detail of the place. I was aware that it was impossible not to profile everyone around him, so I brushed it off.</p><p>What else could he get from my apartment that he did not already know? </p><p>The place was more of a loft with an open concept. The walls were white, a few fake plants here and there, a big built-in furniture piece that doubled as a shelf for my vast collection of books and DVDs and a T.V. stand all tied up with a big black couch. The kitchen had an exposed brick wall beneath the black counters, and all the neutral colors contrasted with the few splashes of color. The overall décor proportioned with candles, photographs, pillows, and art pieces. The space was a little messy, I usually did not have time to tidy it before going for my morning run. I did it after getting from work if I had time to do so.</p><p>I cringed a little at the sight of my mint color comforter and stuffed panda over the couch. I had spent the night before watching movies and cuddling there with Chamomile. I hoped Spencer didn't find it shameful or something.</p><p>I closed the door behind me. Left my keys in the regular bowl I had over a table near the house entrance where I left my purse. I walked towards the kitchen, foremost, to chop some fruit for Chamomile and then to make us some coffee.</p><p>"Make yourself comfortable. Coffee?"</p><p>Spencer nodded in agreement. His hazel eyes still fixated in every item I owned. His hands were lazily hanging inside his pants' pockets.</p><p>"I didn't know you were such an avid reader."</p><p>"Most of them are novels, though."</p><p>"Still…you have titles I've never read before."</p><p>I finished filling the cups, added milk to mine, and grabbed the sugar container so Spencer could help himself. I gave him his cup and left the sugar over the living room table.</p><p>"Maybe you can read a few while I get ready."</p><p>"You bet I will." He placed his mug over the table too as he whispered all the titles in my collection in less than thirty seconds, until he settled for one. "May I?"</p><p>"Of course. Suit yourself. Imma head to the shower." </p><p>I only heard a simple 'mm-hmm' coming from him as I walked towards my bedroom. He was most assuredly already burying his nose on the publication. I chuckled softly, 20,000 words per minute were no joke.</p><p>After carefully choosing my clothes, I hopped into the shower. I tried to follow my regular routine as fast as possible, so I wouldn't make Spencer wait longer. I felt bad about forgetting breakfast. We settled it late at night the day prior when I was sleepier than awake. Then when I woke up, I just went ahead with my regular morning. I was used to doing things by myself, even if I didn't like it.</p><p>I got into a pair of jeans, dark enough to pass as regular formal pants with a black belt, an oversized gray sweater tucked in, and my regular black booties. I pitifully blow-dried my hair, not wanting to risk its wetness, becoming a reason to catch a cold during the increasingly cold D.C. weather. I added a pop of makeup to avoid the living-dead look my face naturally acquired when the heat ceased. I was a hot weather gal with naturally tanned skin. Lack of sun or warmth made me look sick, even if I wasn't. Finally, I dropped some perfume on the regular spots, under my hair and wrists.</p><p>I tossed a few things on my go-bag since I had tampered with it during the last case and had procrastinated to refill it. Once I was done, I grabbed it and reentered the living room. Spencer sat hunched, his eyes scurrying over the pages of what seemed like his fourth book, given the other three titles scattered over the coffee table. He flipped pages faster than I could blink. Still, he managed to find a moment to give his drink a sip.</p><p>"All set, shall we?"</p><p>"Give me two minutes, almost done."</p><p>I said nothing, mesmerized by the way he whispered certain words that his brain registered as crucial for understanding the story. The sound of the paper being turned gained a certain rhythm due to the pace he adopted. Before I could even notice, he was closing the publication and standing up to rearrange the books he took out of their place. I took a moment to read the titles he had chosen.</p><p>“You read <em>’Donde Habitan los Ángeles’</em>?” </p><p>"Yes, such a heartbreaking story."</p><p>"You speak Spanish, Spence?"</p><p>"No." I must've looked really confused because he went on. "I can read it. I just cipher the overall language morphology and syntaxes, connect patterns, and infer the words I don't necessarily know with the context of the story. It is not that hard, actually."</p><p>There it was, classic Spencer Reid minimizing his crazy abilities. I smiled sweetly at him. He rushed himself to the kitchen to wash the mug he had been drinking from before leaving. I was about to tell him that I could do it later, but a sharp sound from our phones, knowingly related to our job, made us both freeze.</p><p>I groaned, conscious about what that meant. Regardless, I checked the message coming from our unit's chief, Prentiss.</p><p>"We got a case."</p><p>Spencer tilted his head, his eyes reflected tediousness. It didn't matter that we were an hour and a half away from our regular check-in time, having a case meant we needed to be at Quantico ASAP. So much for a quiet breakfast with Spencer. Interrupted dates, canceled plans, bad timing, guessed all of that awaited us from dating and working at the Behavioral Analysis Unit.</p><p>We left my apartment, not without saying the proper goodbye to Chamomile. We hopped into my car since Spencer went to my house using the subway and then walking. He wasn't very eager to drive unless it was absolutely necessary.</p><p>Half an hour later and some seriously bad driving skills, courtesy of Luke's influence on me, we arrived at Quantico's headquarters. We got out of the car and headed the elevator that only took us as far as the main building lobby. Every agent needed to register their keycard every time they arrived. As we walked through security, I heard Tara's voice calling us.</p><p>"Hey, guys." She said as soon as she caught up with us. "Drove together today?"</p><p>"What? Why would you think that?"</p><p>Lewis squinted, alternating her gaze over me and then Spencer, several times. We had been successfully keeping it on the down-low for a week, did a matter of three seconds today really blow our cover?</p><p>"Because I saw you stepping out of Vivian's car at the garage." She shrugged her shoulders, as it was not a big deal, yet I knew it was. Her clinical eyes had seen something the rest hadn't noticed yet. "I think that's cool, save gas, money and the environment."</p><p>"Yeah. My sentiment exactly."</p><p>I responded, gave Spencer a quick glance in hopes he would relax a bit. He smiled apprehensively as he bobbed his head, coinciding with me. Security cleared us, as usual, and we directed ourselves to one of the two elevators available. The ride up to the sixth floor felt eternal. None of us said a thing, as Tara stood between us the entire time.</p><p>As soon as the metal doors opened, the three of us exited and crossed the second pair of glass-made entering the BAU.</p><p>"Good morning, good morning, good morning, three of my favorite people on Earth" Penelope greeted us, carrying her classic orange octopus mug. As if it wasn't an impediment, she semi-hugged each one of us. </p><p>"Emily's already waiting for us at the briefing room.</p><p>We followed her, no time spared to answer to her welcoming words.</p><p>"Good morning, guys, take a seat. Please, we need to start."</p><p>I took my <em>usual</em> spot between Spencer and Luke. I counted heads around the room; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven…one was missing.</p><p>"Is Rossi still at his honeymoon?" I giggled.</p><p>"Affirmative, and he will be the following week as well." Prentiss's eyebrows danced suggestively. Seconds later, her face went back to her regular sober visage. "So we are on our own on this, –Penelope."</p><p>"Oh, captain, my captain. Let me introduce you little Elena Tilly, she's six years old, and she went missing yesterday around dawn."</p><p>The girl's picture showed up on the screen. Reddish hair, curly, freckles all over her face. The posture and the subtle smirk that adorned her read as the kind of kid who would get away with mischievous deeds and always make mom and dad skip a beat. Still, Elena was just a kid.</p><p>"Why are we learning about this now, twenty-four first hours are crucial, we're past that." J.J. pointed out, her mama bear side notoriously taking over.</p><p>"Local P.D. thought they got it covered. Their first thought was that Elena ran away. The family was traveling from San Antonio to Tempe. On their way they went by a small farm, Elena said that he wanted to see 'the pretty horses,' the parents didn't give in." Prentiss carried on.</p><p>"So the police assumed she was going to see the pretty horses," I inferred.</p><p>Prentiss nodded but Penelope interjected. "Correct. It was not until mom, Annalise Tilly, mentioned that they lingered at a rest stop at some point during their journey due to the heavy rain. A man approached them, telling them about how their tail lights were out." Penelope continued. "When asked for any particular signs, she mentioned the guy had a skull tattoo, ring any bells?" </p><p>No answer. </p><p>"Anybody?"</p><p>"Yes," Lewis said. "When I first joined, we worked on a case in Arizona; a dad abducted several men trying to find the person responsible for killing his little girl. He believed it had been a guy with a skull tattoo in his hand and wanted to find him."</p><p>As Lewis's recollection became more vivid, her face changed. She was suddenly overwhelmed with a mix of guilt, shame, and a tad of anger.</p><p>I looked at the rest of my colleague's faces, no one else seemed to know what she was talking about, except for Penelope and J.J., whose jaw dropped to the floor. Must've been during a time none of the rest of us were in the BAU. It seemed weird to me that Spencer was clueless about what Lewis was talking about. As far as I was concerned, he was the sole member of the BAU, along with Penelope, that had been working there uninterruptedly for the last 13 years.</p><p>"We all believed the guy with the skull tattoo was only a hallucination product of his sleep deprivation," J.J. muttered. Her face mimicked Tara's feelings of guilt.</p><p>"I knew he was real," Lewis said under her breath. Then gave Jennifer a cold-dead glimpse.</p><p>The blonde woman gulped, as she knew that Lewis was about to blame her, among the former team members for not looking deeper into the matter.</p><p>"We could've not known for sure…"</p><p>"It doesn't matter now. What matters is that Arizona P.D. made the connection with William Taylor's claims too, and they want us in this." Prentiss stepped in before things got heated. "They know that if we don't find Elena in the next twenty-two hours, the probabilities of not finding her alive are off the roof."</p><p>"This guy must've done this several times before. I don't think any serial killer has a dormant period of two years within each kill."</p><p>"Actually, you'd been surprised, Alvez. We've seen cases in which the killer's dormant period extends to decades. Just take the BTK killer as an example, he waited eight years after killing Nancy Fox to murder Marine Hedge." Spencer threw at Luke. "But with children involved, the likelihood of him being a pedophile is high, and in that case, he wouldn't be able to control his urges very long."</p><p>"So I am right, no long dormant period for this guy?"</p><p>"Essentially, yes. Were there any signs of abuse on William Taylor's daughter?"</p><p>"No, she was pretty beaten but nothing sexual." Tara pointed.</p><p>"The act itself is not necessary for a person to get off. He is not touching the children like that. Still, even by hitting them, he may experience sexual gratification, thus making him a pedophile."</p><p>"Contreras's right." J.J. yielded. "He doesn't need to abuse them to get off. Paraphilias don't always include the sexual act. Still, they come with compulsive behavior, meaning that he probably couldn't resist doing it on various occasions in the past couple of years. Garcia…"</p><p>Penelope was already typing at the speed of light on her laptop. "I'm going back for five years."</p><p>"Make that ten, I don't want to leave any stone unturned," Prentiss ordered.</p><p>"Also, narrow it down to abductions that took place somewhere at Interstate 10." Lewis contributed, she was aware of something we ignored. "That's where Tatiana, William Taylor's daughter, was abducted, and her remains were found weeks later."</p><p>Penelope nodded as she recovered the information that was being thrown at her.</p><p>"Already running it, it's going to take a while though, there's too much data to go through."</p><p>Prentiss nodded and looked at us. "Time's of the essence. Wheels up in 10."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter beta'd by cls2256.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. 27: I Didn’t Know You were That Kind of Doctor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi guys! <br/>I know this fic is tagged with 'canon-typical violence' which makes sense because Criminal Minds can get very dark and gruesome and I try to stay on their level or a little less, but I just wanted to give you a little warning that this chapter and the following one are about a case the BAU is working on involving children. There's nothing graphic, just conversations. </p><p>Thanks for reading, please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>About every ten minutes, the team would receive a call from Penelope, letting us know about another child abduction along Interstate 10. The map Tempe provided us was set up at the station's small conference room and lit up with every notified case. Between cases where the bodies were never found and the few where the remains had been recovered, we had over 40 possible cases related to the guy with the skull tattoo.</p><p>When we arrived in Tempe, Prentiss had already designated our specific tasks. I was grateful that I wasn't assigned to dealing with the Tillys. I was not good at hiding the nervousness that the backward clock built— my lack of composure would only make the missing kid's family ten times more anxious. JJ went with them instead. </p><p>I lifted my sight from the file I had been studying as the phone ringing's classic sound hit my ears. Prentiss got to press the answering button first.</p><p>"Garcia, you're on speaker."</p><p>"I got another, little Cheyenne Douglas, 7, disappeared near Jackson, Mississippi, November 2017."</p><p>"How do we know it was our unsub?" Spencer asked. </p><p>He had been setting up the board for the last hour or so and couldn't finish with Penelope interrupting us with another missing child.</p><p>"Mom mentioned a guy in a black van who also told her about their tail lights. For better or worse, Cheyenne's remains were found just a few kilometers from when she was taken a couple of weeks later, just like Tatiana's."</p><p>"Same MO, that's our guy." Prentiss pointed.</p><p>"How is it possible that no one had ever made the connection before?" I threw in the air, feeling that nearly four dozen children kidnaped and murdered in similar circumstances were an obvious nexus. "I mean, look at it. They were all taken from rest-stops on Interstate 10, and the parents mention someone with a dark van or a skull tattoo that talked to them before their kids went missing about their tail lights. It doesn't get any more obvious than that."</p><p>"That's the tricky part of Highway Killers, their hunting grounds are limitless, they cross jurisdictions, and that makes it harder for authorities to place together," Prentiss explained. "If William Taylor's case had not been as high profile as it was, probably no one would've noticed the similarities with the Tilly's story."</p><p>I sighed and tilted my head to the side, thinking. The mood was somber in the conference room—more than usual. I had heard how different it felt working on a case involving children, but I never experienced it before. We had been lucky enough to not have a children-centered case in the six months I had been working at the BAU.</p><p>We had nothing beyond the parents' stories mentioning the guy with the skull tattoo, and a dark van. The same ruse of the taillights not working. Both abduction and dumping sites were always on Interstate 10. We got the pattern, we got the geo-profile, we got a lousy description of the unsub's face, but we didn't have a motive beyond pedophilia.</p><p>"Let's think about his job. A guy like this must earn enough money to travel this much. Or at least he works at something that allows him to move within interstate 10." Prentiss talked again. "He's been at it since 2008 that we know of. Maybe if we narrow down his line of work, we can give this unsub a name"</p><p>"Truck driver?" I asked.</p><p>"Doubt it, the parents mentioned a van, a dark one, no obvious logos."</p><p>"I agree with Viv –Vivian. If he drove a truck, he would be more noticeable." Spencer added.</p><p>I gave him a soft smile before turning to Lewis, inviting her to share her thoughts with the rest. She had been awfully quiet during the deliberation.</p><p>"So we got a non-truck driver, with a dark van driving from the East Coast to the West Coast multiple times since 2008. What kind of job revolves around that?"</p><p>"It could also have nothing to do with his job. Back in 2005, we worked on a case about a highway killer, it was the most prolific one we had seen to that date with a striking 177 plus victims. He had been doing that for decades, roughly since 1970. He drove a van around the States with his trailer killing people, funding himself with the possessions and money taken from his victims."</p><p>"You are talking about Frank, right, Reid?" Penelope suggested.</p><p>"Yes, Frank Breitkopf. Gideon worked that case."</p><p>Jason Gideon. Yes. I knew about him. He was one of the founding fathers of the Behavioral Analysis Unit along with David Rossi. He was brilliant, humble, and incredibly skilled. I also knew he was Spencer's mentor during his first few years at the BAU. Penelope had told me that Gideon was some sort of paternal figure to Spencer. Thus, when he resigned from the job, Reid was heartbroken, obviously not as much as when he was murdered.</p><p>"I don't think he can live off from stealing the possessions of his victims, we are talking about children." Prentiss pointed out. "But we might be on to something...perhaps he's making money on something relating to the kids."</p><p>"Like porn?" Luke questioned with a disgusted scowl on his face.</p><p>"Maybe. Why would he keep these children for three days if he doesn't…"</p><p>We all nodded, letting our boss know that we got the idea.</p><p>"Garcia, look for any jobs related to traveling through interstate 10," Prentiss continued, without missing a beat. "No truckers. Meanwhile, I can check with Crimes Against Children Unit if something related to this has popped up on the darknet."</p><p>"Roger that. I'll call you in a bit."</p><p>Penelope signed off, and Prentiss took her cellphone to get in touch with the previously mentioned FBI unit.</p><p>Lewis, Luke, Spencer, and I stared at each other as if doing that we would magically connect our brains and find the solution to the problem. J.J. was staying with the Tillys in an adjacent room, she was trying to maintain them as calm as possible and get as much in-tell as she could from them.  </p><p>After the moment of quietness, we all went back to what we were busy doing in the first place. Emily reentered the room and sat on the same spot she had been occupying before she left.</p><p>My focus shifted to the file in my hands. It was a dead end. More of the same. It was page after page of the same. Every abduction just added pressure to find the bastard who took those kids, but the few details we got from them were repetitive. There was so much we could do with that. I grabbed my head as I felt my brain beginning to get cluttered.</p><p>"I'm going to grab something from the vending machine," I announced, standing up. "Anyone?"</p><p>Both Lewis and Luke shook their heads without even reaching their sights to me. Emily kindly answered with a soft, "No, thank you."</p><p>"Me, but I'll go with you. I want to choose from."</p><p>"Alright, Dr. Reid."</p><p>We stepped out of the conference room and walked a few meters onto the nearest vending machine.</p><p>"Are you ok?" He asked.</p><p>I padded my pants' pockets, trying to find the wrinkled dollar I had seen earlier in the day hanging there. I nodded in response, not looking at him. I squinted as I tried to choose from the variety of snacks available, once I got the winner, I inserted the bill and dialed the code.</p><p>"I know that cases involving children are particularly hard, I just want to make sure you are fine."</p><p>The machine made a cracking sound as it worked to give me my candy. Once I grabbed it, I faced Spencer.</p><p>"I am fine, Spence. We got a few hours before…you know. I have faith that we can solve this before it happens."</p><p>Reid's words agreed with me, yet his eyes told me otherwise. For some reason, he was not as confident as me that we would get Elena back in time. He sniffed subtly and pierced his eyes on the floor, just like he did whenever he was nervous.</p><p>"So. Is it a bad time to ask you out?"</p><p>"Ask me out?" an amused tone took over my voice. "Like on a date?"</p><p>Yes, it was a bad time. We were in the middle of a case. A kid's life was on the line, and we were nowhere near catching the unsub or even creating a good profile. But then again, when was it going to be a good time? There wasn't. Our whole lives were that, a bundle of bad moments that we managed to tone down with glimpses of happier events like this one.</p><p>He nodded. "Yes. Like a real date." He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, like dinner and a movie, something of that sort."</p><p>"Sounds nice. Change the background, not having to sneak around to chat a bit more."</p><p>His smile mirrored mine. I was still getting used to that particularity of ours. I just hoped that somehow it slipped on our colleagues' minds.</p><p>"When we finish with this case, we've got a date."</p><p>We headed back to meet the rest of the team. They were all invested in their files. Spencer gave me one more sheepishly smile before going back to the murder board. I sat back down and opened the bag of chips I had retrieved from the machine.</p><p>"Where's your snack, Reid?" Luke asked. Apparently, he was indeed paying attention.</p><p>"There was nothing of my taste."</p><p> "My men came empty after canvassing the area." Detective Lynch informed us as he joined us. "Should they go back again?"</p><p>"No," Spencer jumped to say. "He has never been cornered before; if he feels like we are getting close or is getting too much attention, he might panic and get rid of Elena. If anything, use non-marked vehicles."</p><p>"Alright, so what's our next move? I got the kid's parents asking what's being done".</p><p>"Our next move detective is to make a compelling profile."</p><p>He gave us a look filled with doubt. The team was used to working with people who were skeptical about profiling. Therefore, we all had mastered a semblance of total confidence and security. We could not get respect from local authorities, or anyone for that matter, if we hesitated when delivering a profile. Or the lack of it.</p><p>My brain's gears raced as the clock went on, showing us the unavoidable pass of time. It was late. In a standard case, we would just go to the hotel to get a good night's sleep and come back fresh in the morning. Not this case. We were racing against the clock. There was not a minute to spare. The amount of caffeine I had ingested was undeniably getting to me. My hands were shaking mildly, and my leg bounced under the table.</p><p>The phone ringing made us all stop cold. Luke went ahead to answer it.</p><p>"So, I've been going on with the van theme job, but I can't narrow it down. Nowadays, there are just too many things you can live off from while traveling."</p><p>"He approaches the parents before grabbing the kids, he is not scared to show his face. Most likely, his job requires social interaction."</p><p>"Salesman, maybe?"</p><p>"Could be."</p><p>"I'll follow up on that," Penelope announced.</p><p>Prentiss's phone rang as she got a message. She read it before letting us know it was from the Crimes Against Children Unit. She told us that nothing came back in their searches related to any of the kids connected to our unsub. We all let a big exhale leave our bodies as he found ourselves back to square one.</p><p>The frustration was evident. All of us were tired and stressed, yet we couldn't afford to rest.</p><p>I reached for one of the older files, containing one of the earlier cases, probably one of his firsts. We had not gotten to them yet since there were at least 40 files to look at from the possible ones Penelope found. There was just too much information between cases where the bodies were retrieved to cases where it wasn't. </p><p>The autopsy report of that case revealed that the victim presented signs of abuse. I frowned at the recently learned information. Going from sexually abusing his victims to just beating them? Odd. It would generally present itself the other way around.</p><p>"Guys, this little girl, Ariana Hayes, was assaulted by our unsub."</p><p>"How do we know it is our guy?" Luke asked.</p><p>I was about to answer, but Tara's voice came out first. "Let me guess, skull tattoo in his hand according to the parents?" I nodded.</p><p>"What? How could we miss this?" Prentiss questioned as she grabbed the file from my hands and read it. "2009. It was one of his first. Is there any other case like this?"</p><p>"I must have missed it because I was looking for cases without assault." On the other side of the line, I listened to how Penelope typed as fast a lightning bolt so we could get an answer as soon as possible, trying to make up for the time lost.  "Yes, two others, 2010 and 2008 again."</p><p>"Only two?" </p><p>"Well, newbie, most of the bodies of the missing children were never found. Cheyenne, Ariana, Tatiana, and these two other little angels were ones of the few".</p><p>Penelope's voice taunted Luke. My head instantly went to them at bed together. I shook my head, scaring away those stupid and traumatic thoughts.</p><p>"So that means that not all of his victims had an autopsy performed. We don't know for sure if he has abused them or not." Lewis added.</p><p>"For some of them we do, Ariana and these other two kids were raped, which's a fact. Cheyenne and Tatiana were not, they both are on the recent end of his career."</p><p>I was not entirely sure what I was trying to explain, but at that point, I just wanted to make things clear as possible for all of us, so we didn't mix things up.</p><p>I stand to stretch my legs and change my perspective on the board. It was tricking my brain into believing that something had changed. Spencer stood by my side as we raced to find something else.</p><p>"Guys, look at this…within each murder there's a few months cooling-off period, from one to two months. But here…" Reid pointed at the map on the board. "There's a six months gap."</p><p>"Something forced him to stop." Lewis pointed out the obvious.</p><p>Then it hit me. There was a before and an after. We couldn't tell for sure due to the lack of autopsies, but I betted that the sexual abuse stops after those six months. Something had occurred to him that didn't allow him to perform anymore, and he switched to just beating his victims.</p><p>"Maybe he got into an accident or got sick. Uh –Penelope"</p><p>"Give it to me, doctor."</p><p>I glanced at Spencer and giggled at his blushing cheeks, the result of Penelope's double meaning words. I would've guessed that after working with her for almost fourteen years, he would've gotten used to it by now. He gave me an apologetic look before clearing his throat to continue.</p><p>"Search for a white male, mid-thirties to early forties that had an accident or got sick that might have led to him losing the ability to perform. Around June 2015, the beginning of the off period."</p><p>"That's a lot of guys and a huge grey area, wonder boy, anything else so I can narrow it down?"</p><p>"Focus on the section of road between Tallahassee Florida and Mobile Alabama. The abduction before the six month cooling off period was in Tallahassee. After that in Mobile, he must've stayed somewhere near during those six months."</p><p>"Give me a sec…"</p><p>We all stared at the phone in the center of the table, hearing Garcia's fingers tapping over her keyboard, working her magic as usual.</p><p>"I got three, four, five, and six…six possible hits. Sending the files right now."</p><p>Our electronic devices lid up as they received the pictures and 101 on the possible unsubs. I grabbed my tablet and opened the email, letting the information take over the screen. Spencer was standing behind me, reading over my shoulder. His ability to read way faster than me made him take the tablet out of my hands so he could go even more rapidly. I heard Luke laugh at Spencer's action and the face of annoyance I had.</p><p>"No, I don't think it's any of them." He pointed.</p><p>"Yeah, most of these guys have a fixed address and steady jobs. Even family." Luke collected. "Our guy most likely doesn't have a family, he can't. His urges and preference towards children wouldn't let him connect with an adult in a healthy relationship."</p><p>"Garcia, let's try it the other way around…look for people without a fixed address, and a job that requires traveling that might have experienced an accident or sickness that may leave him impotent." Prentiss suggested.</p><p>"Nada." Penelope's voice responded a few seconds after. "But I got a guy that fits the profile, Anthony Wilcox; 42 years old, works as a freelance roadie, only has a P.O. Box at his name in Greensboro, Florida, where he is originally from, and no trace of having a home address. He got himself into a relatively mild car accident at Interstate 10 near DeFuniak Springs, Florida. Only his own vehicle was involved and a pretty unlucky tree. The vehicle in question is a black van."</p><p>"Did he suffer an injury that could possibly lead to impotence?" I questioned.</p><p>"If he did, it is not evident." My blonde colleague answered rapidly. "What I can tell you is that the accident's cause is apparently a heart attack, which he survived. Other than a nasty bump on the head, I don't really see how he could have lost his ability to <em>you know</em> with this accident. Sorry guys." </p><p>"Was he diagnosed as hypertensive?" Spencer asked. </p><p>By the way, he said that and the look on his face, I felt that he already knew the answer. Penelope answered with a 'yep.' </p><p>"Then he must be in some sort of beta-blocker, these medications are often prescribed to prevent a second heart attack. They have a lot of adverse effects, just to name a few: fatigue, dizziness, hallucinations, insomnia, including sexual dysfunction."</p><p>Detective Lynch's face was priceless. He was confused about a lot of things since we started making the profile. Still, Spencer's explanation of hypertension drugs was just the straw that broke the camel's back. I pressed my lips together, trying to suppress the laughter that tried to escape. We were all used to Spencer random, yet very useful, knowledge but the rest of the world wasn't. It was just precious to see their reactions.</p><p>"I did not know you were that kind of a doctor." The detective finally said.</p><p>"I am not." Spencer shook it off and continued. "Anthony Wilcox is our unsub."</p><p>"Garcia, by any chance, can you find out if he has…" Lewis began to ask, Penelope spoke over her.</p><p>"A skull tattoo in his hand? I am checking his photos on social media and…bingo! He does."</p><p>Our devices made a quick chirp, letting us know we had another file received. Spencer, who still held on to my tablet, opened it and read it in seconds. He was the first to talk.</p><p>"No doubt, he is our unsub. Credit card shows he has been in most cities tied within Interstate 10 for the past eight years."</p><p>"Agreed. Let's put an APB on Anthony Wilcox, detective."</p><p>Prentiss ordered the guy who still came out as skeptical about our method of finding Elena's abductor. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly, and scratched his stubble.</p><p>"How does knowing his identity help us find Elena?" He pointed to the missing girl's picture on the board. "Don't get me wrong; knowing who we are after is great, but this guy's good at hiding. What does this change?"</p><p>"Because knowing him, what he does, helps us know where exactly to look," I explained.</p><p>"<em>Miss</em>," he began talking, I was able to feel my eyes rolling. I didn't work my <em>ax</em> at college twice and then at the Academy to be called <em>miss</em>. Withal, I didn't bring it up. It was not the time or place. "My men canvassed the area when you guys first arrived."</p><p>"Yes, the area where Elena went missing. This man keeps the children for some time before killing them. He is not going to stick around near the place he abducted Elena. He needs privacy and to feel safe." I went on, trying to appear firm and confident. </p><p>"Contreras is right." Lewis supported me. "Also, if he is currently working, he would need to go ahead with his regular activities. Garcia-"</p><p>"Already looking…He is working. Yes, I can see he got a transfer for about $700 a couple of days ago. It is his standard fee according to his site, but can't find any paper trail for a contract or something. Let me check his mail."</p><p>I felt the rush, my breathing accelerating its pace as Penelope typed on the other side of the line. This was the best part of the job, from where I saw it. The moment we managed to connect the dots and piece everything.</p><p> "A-ha! He is currently working with an almost unknown band from Tucson. They hired him to move their instruments during a small tour they are doing around Arizona's bars. The band's name is Paint Splash. According to the lead singer's credit card, they are staying at Motel 6. Also, they are meant to perform tonight in a bar called Rhythm Room. Both addresses already sent".</p><p>"It's 2:00am, is there any chance they are still at the Rhythm Room?" Luke asked.</p><p>"According to this video uploaded to twitter three minutes ago, they are still performing, newbie."</p><p>"Thanks, Garcia."</p><p>After Luke's words, there were a couple of seconds of silence on Penelope's end, only to add "Whatever, newbie." Before hanging.</p><p>I chuckled and dedicated my tanned friend, a complicity grin. He dismissed after his cheeks turned slightly more burned than before. Oh Lord, did I enjoy knowing what I did about my teammates. I had the high ground for now.</p><p>"Lewis, Contreras go check the motel; detective Lynch will go with you." Our unit chief ordered us. </p><p>We nodded and proceeded to get ready. </p><p>"Reid, Alvez, and I will hit the bar. I'll let J.J. know about the developments on our way. Any questions?" </p><p>No answer. </p><p>"Let's bring Elena home."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. 28: A Little Bit Too Late</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi guys! Just a small reminder that the case in this chapter involves children. Nothing graphic, though. I try to keep up with the tag 'canon-typical violence' in this fic. Thanks!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tara Lewis was driving our black SUV. The sirens were off since we didn't want Wilcox to know he was getting cornered. Detective Lynch led the way from his unlabeled car a few meters before us. I was holding on to the handle over the window. Even though Tara's driving was way less imprudent than Luke's, it was just a habit engraved in my brain. She had been quiet most of the case, and she was silent now too.</p><p>"Everything ok?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>I raised my left eyebrow as I watched her subtle lip twitch. Liar.</p><p>"Do you know who taught me to read micro-expressions?"</p><p>"I did." She answered.</p><p>"Do you think so low of your skills to believe that I would not notice that something is off?" I challenged her. She let soft laughter out as she shook her head. "Alright, then. Where's your head at?"</p><p>Tara shifted in her seat, unable to put together the necessary words to express her bugging.</p><p>"I feel like I failed." she finally spoke. I gasped, not wanting to believe that my mentor, one of my biggest role models, felt like that. "Two years ago, a father died trying to find the man who murdered his little girl. He kept his word up to the last second. I felt that he was not making it up, but everyone dismissed it, they said it was only hallucinations due to sleep deprivation."</p><p>"There was no way to know for sure, though. He was mourning the loss of his daughter, that could do a lot to a man's psyche."</p><p>"I should've followed my gut, Vivian."</p><p>"Tara…"</p><p>"Having done that, nor Cheyenne, nor Elena or any other of the kids on our board would've…"</p><p>"Don't go there." I interrupted.</p><p>I could not pretend to know how she was feeling, but I was confident that it would lead her to a dark place. I did not want that for her, or anyone else on the team for all I cared. We were also approaching the motel. Thus, I did not let my partner get into a possible unstable situation with all her emotions fizzing up.</p><p> "Past is the past. As much as it hurts, we can't change it. Let us focus on what we can do, we can find Elena, and we can nail the monster who took them." I stated.</p><p>She glanced at me for a moment before going back to the road. She sighed deeply, multiple times as her muscles relaxed for the first time during the case. Tara knew that I was right. The past was out of our control. However, the present, Elena, was still within our reach, and it was best to focus on her.</p><p>Two minutes later, we were arriving at the motel's parking lot. Tara stopped the car and exited it. The motel did not have a "main desk"; it was more of a hatch. A thick acrylic sheet with a slot big enough to slide money or keys on it separated us from the inside of the small check-in office. A guy, probably in his late twenties, sat on a stool on the other side of the acrylic, his eyes focused so much on the comic in his hands, he didn't even seem to notice us coming to him.</p><p>Tara knocked on the glass. The guy flinched as he dropped the comic. My colleague already had her credentials out. That guy's face reflected pure terror, feds showing up to his job at 2:00 in the morning. I bet he was carrying drugs. However, it was not why we were visiting Motel 6. I grabbed Wilcox's picture from my pocket and showed it to him.</p><p>"Which room?"</p><p>"3, first floor. You want the keys?" he said outrageously.</p><p>"Unless you want us kicking your door down."</p><p>He blinked several times, probably his brain was having trouble processing the presence of federal agents. </p><p>"Su-sure..."</p><p>He lurked in a cabinet until he managed to get the spare key of said room. He slid it under the hole in the acrylic sheet. We thanked him, grabbed it, and went on to find Anthony Wilcox.</p><p>Once we stood in front of the room's entrance, I distinguished the sound of the running water of the shower. He was there. Detective Lynch used the key provided to us to unlock the door. We all exchanged looks and nods to reaffirm the plan—guns out, bulletproof vests on.</p><p>Detective Lynch opened the door. Tara went in first announcing our presence with a simple "FBI." She went straight to the bathroom, followed by Lynch. In the meantime, I cleared the rest of the room. Nothing.</p><p>"Anthony Wilcox," I heard Lynch's voice from the bathroom.</p><p>He had not said Elena's name, which began to concern me. I felt my blood running, my heart racing, and my breathing getting heavier as an acute pain took over my chest.</p><p>"She's not here, Tara," I let her know, still looking anxiously in every corner of the small motel room.</p><p>"Where's Elena Tilly?" She questioned. "Answer me, where is Elena Tilly?"</p><p>I felt my heart sink at the realization that she wasn't there, that there was a big chance that she was already dead. I headed to the bathroom. The scene I ran into was the one of Tara pinning Wilcox against the wall effortlessly, her being a tall woman. The bathtub was full of red-tinged water and a few pieces of clothing. Detective Lynch, still pointing his weapon to the abductor.</p><p>"You're just a little too late."</p><p>That freaking grin on his face made me want to hit him too. But it was not right to do so. Therefore I stepped in before letting Tara continue hitting Anthony. I felt what she was feeling, but assaulting him would only make things worse on trial.</p><p>"Stop it, Tara!" I shouted. She did not. "Lewis!"</p><p>Her hands ceased, and Wilcox smiled yet again. I had to stand right in the middle to avoid my partner punching the man one more time. Lynch went on and cuffed Wilcox before he dragged him out.</p><p>I placed my hands on Tara's arms, trying to calm her down, tears rolling down her cheeks. I felt my eyes crystalizing too. I was the one keener to get over emotional during cases, the one who required tranquilizing when things went south, but not this one. This touched Tara in a way I couldn't relate to, and she was hurting. I needed to step up for her, for the team, and Elena Tilly.</p><p>"We're late."</p><p>"You don't know that."</p><p>"You heard him Contreras!" she snapped, "we're too late, she's gone."</p><p>Lewis gasped and cried as I had never seen her. She was a tough woman who hardly broke. Her job as a forensic psychologist required her to keep a poker face most of the time. My jaw was shaking from trying to stop myself from doing the same. I directed her out of the bathroom and then out of the room, near our parked SUV, onto fresh Arizona's night air. I was speechless; there was not anything I could've said to make her feel better because chances were that Elena was gone. Forever.</p><p>"Take a breath; take your time," I whispered. My friend and colleague nodded, letting her body lean on the side of our vehicle. "I need to call Prentiss."</p><p>I walked a few meters away from Tara. I gave the whole parking lot a glance at the same time I dialed my boss' number. Not even a tone went by before she answered.</p><p>"Wilcox is not at the bar. Contreras?"</p><p>"We got him."</p><p>"That's great news…" she began to sigh in relief.</p><p>"Elena is not here..." I announced uneasily, a knot in my throat disallowed me from articulating better. "He said we were a little too late."</p><p>I heard her curse in multiple languages on the other side of the line. I was also able to distinguish Spencer's and Luke's voices through the distance, asking her what was wrong. She told them briefly before going back to me.</p><p>"We need forensics there right away."</p><p>"His van is here too. There were also bloody clothes and water on the tub. I just got a peek, but they seem like they're Wilcox," I murmured. My eyes went to Tara, still trying to put herself together after our encounter with Wilcox. "Tara's pretty shaken up. I –I don't think she's ok."</p><p>Prentiss gulped and exhaled. She was also trying to keep it together for the sake of the investigation.</p><p>"Is Wilcox apprehended? Who else is with you?"</p><p>"Yes, detective Lynch is driving him to the station. Just two patrol cops, they are securing the scene already."</p><p>"Good. I'll send Luke with a CSI team to search both the room and van. I want you to go back to the station to meet us, alright?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>Emily hanged before saying anything else. I walked back towards the SUV and Tara, who was now somewhat calmer than before.</p><p>"Prentiss wants us back," I let her know.</p><p>"But maybe we can find something here that leads us to Elena."</p><p>"She's sending Luke with a forensics team."</p><p>I was not going to sugar coat it if she asked why this was being done. I knew better than to lie to her. She knew how to read my face and body language better than anyone else on the team because she taught me to control them to interview serial killers when the time came. She was hoping for me someday to take her place at the forensic psychologist's division. Tara was sure from day one that I was more than a simple stat analyst, so she went ahead and taught me a few things about the art of interviewing people with different pathologies. Her faith, knowledge, and the fact that she felt it was worth it to share with me ultimately landed me the BAU job.</p><p>"It's probably for the best."</p><p>Lewis said. She entered the SUV on the copilot's side, leaving me to drive back to the station. This was one of the few times I drove during a case. But again, this whole case was filled with me doing things I wouldn't normally do.</p><p>After a quiet ride, we finally arrived at the station. We headed to the conference room where Spencer and Prentiss expected us. On my way, I glanced at JJ, still seated with the Tillys. I would've hated to be in her shoes at that moment; Elena's parents were both standing up, gesturing with their hands, and pointing to the interrogation room. Mom was crying and shouting while dad held her still. They knew the man we brought in was the one who took their little girl, and now JJ had to explain to them exactly why Elena was no with them yet.</p><p>My throat was dry, and I could barely swallow; it resulted from me trying to control my urges to cry for a long time. Once we entered the room, Spencer greeted us with a lost puppy look and Prentiss with a disappointed grimace. Though I knew she was not disappointed in us, she was frustrated about how things turned out. I took my bulletproof vest off and left it over the couch. The immediate relief of getting that weight off almost tricked me into believing that everything was fine.</p><p>"What happened to Wilcox?" Prentiss' voice broke the appalling silence for the first time since our arrival. "He's pretty beaten up."</p><p>"He was behaving cocky," I explained before Tara could say anything. I was not letting her apologize for it. We all believed in the justice system, but that didn't mean that we would stand a presumptions man's mockery. "Lewis just reminded him of his place."</p><p>Spencer chuckled and gave Tara a look of approval, which she dismissed after shaking her head with the smallest of the smiles ever. Our boss squinted as she processed the information I had just given to her. Indeed, it was not within the rules, but she was the type of boss who would overlook stuff, mainly because she was fully aware of how personal cases could get.</p><p>"Sorry, Prentiss."</p><p>I heard Tara said, I baffled since my attempt to avoid that was a failure.</p><p>"Oh, I don't care. If trash is acting like trash, then we should treat it like that." Our chief shrugged her shoulders. "Let's just hope he doesn't use it against us. I will perform the interrogation. In the meantime, I'll like you guys to stay in check with anything that Luke or the CSI team discovers. Tara, coordinate with the local PD to organize a search party."</p><p>"Emily, I was wondering if I could go in the interrogation with you."</p><p>"No way. He knows he can get to you." Prentiss denied Tara's request.</p><p>"He also knows that she would not hesitate to put it in his place," Spencer added. "This guy doesn't need a soft approach; he thinks he has the upper hand still."</p><p>Prentiss toyed with the idea; her eyes told us that she was weighing her options. On the one hand, if she went along with Anthony, she would have to establish some sort of connection before interrogating him about Elena's whereabouts, which would take more time. If Tara went too, he would automatically feel comfortable around here; there was a higher chance of manipulation from both sides.</p><p>"Alright, new plan, Tara goes in with me, Spence, Vivian, coordinate the search party."</p><p>We all nodded. I specially glanced at Lewis, reassuring that she was ok. I hated seeing a friend self-doubting or just having a hard time. She seemed a lot calmer, a lot more cold-minded. She was striving to find Elena, and that was what we needed at the moment. She had her moment, but now it was all or nothing. Emily and Tara left, leaving Spencer and me completely alone. I looked at the clock; it was 4:30 am, it was not going to be long before dawn.</p><p>Spencer placed his hand delicately on my lower back. My eyes focused on watching Lewis as she walked out of the conference room. If I had it my way, she wouldn't walk into the wolf's mouth right after one of her –most likely, biggest breakdowns ever. But Spencer was right. It was probably the right move if we wanted Elena's location as soon as possible.</p><p>"She'll be fine." My teammate's soft voice made me turn to face him. </p><p>"She's one of the toughest women I've ever met."</p><p>"I know." I relented. "It doesn't mean that I don't get to worry a little about her."</p><p>"How bad was it?"</p><p>He inquired, his hazel eyes showed concern. My face probably told him more about the whole situation than my words. By that point, I was not sure anymore if his ability to read my mind was due to his vast profiling skills or merely because he actually <em>knew</em> me.</p><p>"Well, when we got to the motel, Wilcox was alone, no evident sign of Elena being there. He is the guy with the skull tattoo. The tub was filled about halfway, soaking a bunch of bloody clothes." I began to describe. "We asked him about Elena, and he answers: '<em>You are just a little too late.</em>'"</p><p>"That doesn't mean that she's…"</p><p>"I know." Somehow I made it sound harsher than I intended. Spencer was only trying to give me some comfort in the middle of a bad situation. I apologized and continued. "But I also have this…this acute sensation in my chest." I motioned to it. "Lewis blames herself for all of this. She says that none of this would've happened if the BAU had investigated further two years ago. She's not wrong, you know?"</p><p>I suddenly had a knot forming yet again on the back of my throat. My speech began to distort. However, I pushed myself to talk.</p><p>"Deep inside, I feel resentful with you guys because you didn't pursue the case, but again, I also know there must've been good reasoning for the BAU not to follow up."</p><p>"I wouldn't know. I did not work William Taylor's case when it happened, but I am sure that Hotch did what was best at the time."</p><p>"I understand that. But who takes the weight of guilt on my friend's shoulders if we can't get to Elena on time, Spence?"</p><p>"Us. We do. That's what the team is for."</p><p>His voice was almost inaudible, so smooth and comforting. We were closer than I realized, and on the spur of the moment, I found myself leaning in to kiss him.</p><p>The conference room door opened before our lips could touch; it startled us and made us both back up from each other a few steps. I cautiously turned to the person that had interrupted us. I was assuming the worst; Prentiss, Luke, anybody from the team. Instead, I found a police officer holding a map.</p><p>"Agents, I was asked to bring this to you. For the search party."</p><p>"Ah, yes, leave it on the table, please," Spencer answered after clearing his throat. "Have your men done anything to get volunteers?"</p><p>"Detective Lynch has contacted local news channels and papers to spread the word, waiting for the details."</p><p>I walked to grab the map the officer kindly got us, spread it over the table, and focused on the abduction and Motel 6. It was up to us to settle a point of meeting and a time for said event.</p><p>"Here," Spencer pointed. "This rest stop is fine to organize the volunteers. How does 7:00 am sound?"</p><p>"Great. It'll give us time to plan the grids and the sun to come out fully."</p><p>"I'll let Detective Lynch know."</p><p>The officer left the room. I glanced at Spencer before laughing out of nervousness. That was close. Too close for comfort. We needed to be more careful if we wanted to keep it on the down-low.</p><p>"Grids."</p><p>"Grids."</p><p>He agreed with me before going full in with the mapping and planning of the grids of search to find Elena. He was explaining to me in detail everything that entailed coordinating a search party. I had participated in a seminar about the subject before, but the theory never matched reality; every case was different. Therefore every area of search was also distinct.</p><p>My cellphone's ringtone interrupted Spencer's long explanation about how to assign different grid leaders. The screen read "Luke Alvez." I answered before another second went by.</p><p>"Where's Emily? She's not answering."</p><p>"She's with Tara interrogating Wilcox," I explained. "What's up?"</p><p>"CSI found Elena's DNA all over the motel room and his van and her stuffed animal."</p><p>Great, he was sloppy, that would only help our case at court. Still, Luke's voice was bleak, and he was certainly not done talking. He was not telling me something. I pressed the speaker button so Spencer could hear whatever he had to say.</p><p>"I think it's better if you get Prentiss," Luke announced.</p><p>I looked at Spencer. He nodded as a way of telling me that he was going to get them. A minute later, Tara, Emily, and JJ, Spencer and I were standing next to each other, my phone allowing for Luke to also be there with us. The conference room doors were closed.</p><p>"Elena's DNA is all over the van and room. No doubt, she was there. The clothes on the bathtub are Wilcox's. However, the blood on them is not his."</p><p>I felt my temperature dropping. He had been holding on to the idea that the little Tilly was still alive. We were trained to do so until the very last second, but this news made it impossible.</p><p>"Do we still believe she's alive?" JJ asked.</p><p>Her voice cracked at the end. I understood her. She had been with her parents all this time, trying to calm them and assuring them that we were doing our best. The odds of her telling them that they wouldn't get their little girl back with life were over the roof.</p><p>"Forensics can't estimate with precision the amount of blood Elena lost only going by the half-washed clothes," Luke explained further. "His van has a GPS, it was deactivated, but I already called Penelope, she's trying to piece something up, to see where the last place he drove to is. Maybe we can find Elena there…wait. That's Garcia –I'll plugs her in."</p><p>"Cinnamon skinned g…"</p><p>"Garcia, you are in a conference call with all of the team." Luke interrupted her before she could say anything else.</p><p>My teammates were more concerned with the case; they did not even care about Penelope's strangely flirty greet to Luke.</p><p>"Sweet Jesus." I heard her otherwise cheery voice through the phone. "I was able to piece some of the GPS histories, found the last spot he drove. It is still there at Interstate 10. I'm sending the coordinates to all of you know."</p><p>As usual, our electronic devices went off at the same time Garcia finished talking. I saw Prentiss from the corner of my eye; her mouth was a few millimeters open, her eyes squinted. She was regrouping, re-planning. </p><p>This changed everything.</p><p>"This is what we are going to do; Alvez, get to the coordinates now. Reid, Contreras, search party begins now, no time for volunteers, take every police officer available, and meet Luke there. Tara, I need you to go back with Wilcox. Anything you can get from him is useful. I'll coordinate from here. I'll send K9s as soon as I can."</p><p>"What should I tell the parents, Emily?" JJ asked.</p><p>"Tell them there's been a development. You can't comment further. Are we clear?"</p><p>"Yes"</p><p>The following sequences happened in a blur. Everyone moving fast to their assigned positions, their sad faces lacking hope of finding that little girl alive, but no one dared to say it out loud. I remember grabbing the SUV's keys from Spencer's hand and hopping to the pilot's seat without asking him if he wanted to drive. There was a tint of orange beginning to pop from the overall gloomy sky. A bunch of police cars followed us until we arrived at the coordinates Garcia sent us. It was in the middle of nowhere, a little outside Tempe right on Interstate 10. Luke and another bunch of officers were waiting for us.</p><p>We got out of the car. Spencer took out a map I wasn't aware he had and extended it over the vehicle's hood. Everyone gathered around him.</p><p>"This is where we are." He took a marker from his pocket and circled our exact location. "As you can see, we are right on the highway. If he took Elena somewhere, it must be in this direction."</p><p>Spencer proceeded to point a vast desert area on the side of the road.</p><p>"He's hypertensive, which wouldn't allow him to walk this area much further than to this point, but in any direction, which means we have…" I saw his lips moving as he whispered numbers, trying to calculate how much ground we had to cover. "All of this land to search."</p><p>He used the same marker to make a dividing line. It was not undoable, but the lack of light and grass was going to make it hard. The officers passed out a few lamps and prepared to canvas the area.</p><p>"You ok?" Luke asked me.</p><p>"I think so."</p><p>The whole place felt heavy. It was the same feeling I got walking into a crime scene. Still, any of my past experiences would prepare me for what I was about to see.</p><p>I started to feel like fainting. I had been up for more than 24 hours at that point, and the last meal I had was a bag of chips from Tempe's PD vending machine. I must've looked the way I felt because Luke stopped me from joining the search party.</p><p>"Why don't you stay here? Wait for the K-9 unit."</p><p>My friend gave me a sealed evidence bag that contained Elena's stuffed animal. I took it and agreed with him. He then joined the rest.</p><p>The line began moving forward, and the police officer's calling Elena's name, leaving 30 seconds in between in case she would answer to her name. With every step they took, my heart skipped a beat, fearing the worst. The sun greeted us in the sky, and now it was more orange than dark blue. I was not sure how long they had been walking through the tall grass and began to question the sense of it all when I heard a bark.</p><p>I turned around to meet a police officer holding Belgium shepherd from a leash descending from a small truck. Two more joined us a few seconds later. A K9 unit arrived.</p><p>"Good morning, I'm SSA Vivian Contreras." I introduced myself. "Thank you for coming. This is Elena's" I showed him the bag.</p><p>"We need to take it out so the dogs can sniff it and track it, alright?"</p><p>"Sure"</p><p>The officer changed the dog's leash for a tracking line, and I took the toy out and gave it to the dog's handler. He lowered it to the animal's nose level to get a good sniff before they began walking towards the dessert. </p><p>They were fast. Faster than regular officers. Soon enough, the dogs passed the line of officers that had been walking for quite some time.</p><p>From where I stood, I was only able to see some ambiguous shapes of the policemen, a slightly taller whom I assumed was Spencer. I heard talking but couldn't make out what they were saying. A couple of cars went by the highway, making enough noise for me to stop listening at all. All and all, I was sure that the dogs had not barked yet, which meant that they were still searching.</p><p>My phone rang the screen lid up with Emily's message, asking if there had been any development. I told her that K9 had arrived, and they were trying to track Elena. She answered with a simple "Keep me posted." I toyed with the idea of asking her if Tara had been able to crack Anthony. I began to craft that text. Nevertheless, I never got to send it.</p><p>One of the shepherds barked. Multiple times, insistently until his handler approached him. I saw both Luke and Spencer rushing to the scene. I couldn't help but follow, even if the hunger and tiredness were increasingly threatening. I dialed Emily's phone without pressing the 'call' button. Whatever happened, I had to inform her.</p><p>As I approached them, I was able to distinguish everyone's visages better. Spencer gave an apologetic glance and tried to stop me before getting any closer. His voice sounded like he was kilometers away from me, even if it was just a few meters. I also heard Luke calling my name; his tone of voice was the same he used to give bad news to a victim's family.</p><p>The two of them knew me so well. They knew that I was sensitive, that emotions usually overcame me. They were trying to protect me from whatever was that the dog found. I kept walking a few steps, not caring about my feelings at all. I just wanted to see it. To finally give the Tillys -and Tara- an answer, to get closure.</p><p>I stood between Luke and Spencer as I found myself continually doing when I needed to feel protected, yet they couldn't have saved me from the image in front of me. It was gruesome, it was wrong, it was heartbreaking.</p><p>Still unsure how I had managed to maintain my composure, I pressed the 'call' button. My boss' voice sounded within a second.</p><p>"Contreras."</p><p>"We found Elena, Prentiss," I announced. "She's not alive."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter beta'd by cls2256<br/>Thank you so so much for reading! </p><p>If you're interested in some Christmas fluff, adventures, one shots check out "My Christmas Jukebox"! A series of one shots based on 12 of my favorite Christmas songs, all of them are Criminal Minds and Spencer centered. <br/>Merry Christmas for those who celebrate! Stay safe.<br/>Love, A.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. 29: No Damsel in Distress.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>chapter beta'd by cls2256</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It blew my mind that a little over a week, I was in Tempe, Arizona, looking at a dead child in the middle of the grass beside Interstate 10, and now I was sitting in a fancy Italian restaurant downtown D.C staring at my very handsome date.</p><p>Seven months ago, it would've found it inconceivable to go on with my life after watching a family break down because we couldn't save their little girl on time. I would've felt guilty, sorrowful, with an overall low-spirit, but for some reason now, I did not.</p><p>Yes, I did feel sorry for the Tillys— they lost their child. However, the first thought I got when entering the jet to get back home was, "<em>All in a day's work</em>." It didn't weigh on my shoulder like other cases without a satisfactory outcome. I was disappointed but not overwhelmed to the point I couldn't function properly.</p><p>In fact, after wrapping the case up, my date with Spencer was the only thing to look forward to. It was a <em>Vivian</em> thing, not an <em>SSA Contreras</em> thing. It was a reminder that I was human and that no matter how hard or bad things could get in my job, I still deserved to be happy and unwind.</p><p>I felt pretty with a tight black long-sleeved sweater and my straight wool plaid patterned skirt. Due to the increasingly chilly weather of the ever more evident D.C winter, I wore black tights, and a thick black pea coat. Spencer had dressed up too, although this meant he was wearing formal shoes instead of his regular black converse. He also insisted on picking me up from my apartment in his car— an eye-catching pearly-white Volvo Amazon P130 122S circa 1965. Shame he wasn't a fan of driving it more often; it was a lovely car.</p><p>The restaurant he chose was fancy yet cozy and intimate. The waiter arrived at our table with a basket of freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven, and a variety of cheese. I couldn't help but pick a piece and eat it as Spencer ordered us a wine I'd never heard of.</p><p>As the waiter walked away, I admired the city's Christmas decor visible from the windows. The streets illuminated with small twinkling lights and Christmas wreaths were picturesque. A Santa Claus or two stood on the visible street corners, ringing a donation bell for the Salvation Army and nodding to those who placed money inside their donation bins. Spencer seemed uninterested in the decor outside, making me curious.</p><p>"So, you do believe that Christmas is just a capitalist event?" I squinted my eyes, defying him to answer.</p><p>"Well, not <em>just</em> a capitalist event, although it did turn into that," He explained. "I believe it meant a lot to Christians, but at some point, large companies overshadowed the meaning of the holiday."</p><p>"I love Christmas," I stated softly.</p><p>He didn't look surprised at all. Was I that easy to read? </p><p>"And I like buying presents for the people I love," I continued, a little more confidently. "But I also long all year to hang out with my complete family and eat my mom's and grandma's food, listen to carols, and just get in the spirit of loving and sharing."</p><p>He smiled softly. I guess we were not exactly on the same page, but we weren't too far apart either. It was a recurring theme between us. It was easy to agree to disagree. I liked the friction in our conversations; it was exciting and enriching.</p><p>"Don't get me wrong, Christmas is nice," He said, through a mouthful of cheese. "I just wished that people stop being so hypocritical about it—"</p><p>"Your wine, sir," The waiter said, delivering the bottle of red wine to our table. He poured a small taste into my glass and motioned for me to taste. I felt my cheeks blush as I tasted the wine quickly, then nodded my approval. The waiter nodded and left the bottle.</p><p>"Thank you," Spencer said, nodding to the waiter. "Anyway—" he turned back to me. " I think there's a deeper meaning behind all of the presents, lights, and decorations."</p><p>"Says the guy who loves Halloween." I teased as I poured myself a generous glass of wine.</p><p>"Not the same."</p><p>"Come on! It originated from the Celtic festival of Samhain. Druids built huge sacred bonfires, where the people gathered to burn crops and animals as sacrifices to the Celtic deities because they believed that on their new years' eve, the barrier between the world of the living and dead somehow blurred." I explained. "Now it is all about candy, sexy costumes, and pranks. Or do you build huge bonfires and burn animals to appease Celtic deities?"</p><p>"Sexy costumes…I don't think…"</p><p>
  <em>"Reid."</em>
</p><p>"Yeah, I know…" He gave up. "I guess we are all a little hypocritical with our holidays."</p><p>I laughed. I won a discussion against Dr. Spencer Reid. A part of me believed that he just yielded to what I was saying because he didn't want to upset me. There was also a part of me that felt a hundred percent confident that my argument was on fire. Thank you, Culture History.</p><p>I grabbed the menu in front of me. We hadn't had the opportunity to check it out because we were busy chatting. I scanned the menu looking for something yummy to order. It was a tough choice, but for all the right reasons, everything sounded so appealing. I licked my lips instinctively after reading the description of a spinach cream ravioli dish. Spencer's eyes were fixated on me, which only made me acquire a soft blush to my cheeks.</p><p>"How are you spending Christmas, then?" He asked.</p><p>I studied the menu a few seconds more before putting it down and facing him. I tilted my head and grimaced. It was less than a week away from us, yet I wasn't thrilled about Christmas this specific year because I would not celebrate like I usually did. I broke my heart to think about my family getting together and me being unable to attend. We were not required to go to work, but we needed to be available on the spot if a case came up; therefore we couldn't leave the D.C. area.</p><p>"My apartment, Hallmark movies, comfy pajamas, Chamomile, and lots of eggnog." I heard soft laughter leaving his lips. "How about you?"</p><p>He didn't look up from his menu. "Going to visit my mom at the hospital."</p><p>I nodded. "How is she?"</p><p>"She's doing good actually. It seems like the new medications and overall treatment are the right fit for her," Spencer answered, his voice sounded uplifted. "I don't want to get my hopes up excessively, but I am feeling positive."</p><p>"That's great, Spence."</p><p>The waiter came in to take our orders. Spencer took longer to choose as he had been paying more attention to me than to the menu. I asked for the spinach ravioli that caught my eye earlier and awaited while Spencer debated with himself and the endless possibilities of dishes presented in the carte. A couple of minutes later, he settled for a chicken cacciatore. Then there was silence. None of us said anything, we were looking eye to eye, but I couldn't communicate. All and all, though, I didn't feel weird about it.</p><p>"How are you doing?" Spencer finally spoke.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You know, Elena Tilly…" he began to elaborate but stopped himself from getting into detail on behalf of the other commensals at the restaurant. "It was not particularly forbearing of a case."</p><p>For the first time, I stopped myself from getting home to truly analyze what I was feeling regarding the most recent case we covered. Did I hurt for Tara? Yes. Did I want to go and give Anthony Wilcox the proper penance myself? No. Did I feel sorry for the Tillys? Yes. Was I going to continue with my life? Yes. Was I going to beat myself over it? No.</p><p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p><p>That's when it hit me.</p><p>"I am more upset about how I am not upset."</p><p>Spencer's hazel eyes looked down at the table, unable to meet mine. I was not saying anything but taking a sip of wine. He didn't seem surprised nor worried. It was as if he somehow expected me to say that, perhaps not in that exact moment, but sometime near.</p><p>I did not. I expected myself to cry over the cruel death of a seven-year-old child who only wanted to see the pretty horses. To feel impotent and rabid each time I heard or even thought about Anthony's Wilcox name. I would've guessed that my reaction to seeing Elena's parents crumbled when JJ told them that we didn't find her alive to be nearly the same as theirs. I would've pictured myself falling on my knees at the sight of the lifeless mutilated body of a little girl in the middle of the Arizona grass.</p><p>Yet none of that happened. </p><p>I felt defeated because we weren't on time, and I felt terrible for the Tillys for losing their child. I was also distressed because Tara felt wrong about how things went down, but it wasn't immobilizing pain like the type I felt during my first cases. I was able to keep breathing and keep myself together and think straight. It was as if I stopped making it personal.</p><p>"Sounds like you are officially a BAU profiler." Spencer's voice interrupted my thoughts. "After six months working with the team, seeing what you've seen and dealing with what you've dealt with, I am surprised this didn't happen earlier."</p><p>I frowned like I regularly did when I found myself hearing something that was not pleasant to my ears.</p><p>"It is a good thing if you plan on sticking in the BAU for long." He added.</p><p>"Maybe I don't see it as a good thing," I exclaimed. "It is not very <em>me</em> to not care. It is <em>you guys</em> thing. I am the sentimental, empathetic one."</p><p>"We care." Spencer disrupted me. He leaned on the table to get closer to my face. "All of us do. We just learned to accept that what we see, the cases that get to our hands, as harsh as it sounds, are only work. It is what we do, not what we are."</p><p>I felt my breathing getting agitated with every word he said. I remembered one of the first conversations we had when I joined the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Right after my first case, Spencer had been having an attitude towards me, and I confronted him about it. He answered that he wanted me to quit because he thought I was too good for the job. His exact words were: "<em>You have a pure soul, a beautiful mind and a big heart, there's no need to break it or to contaminate it, and this job does that</em>." I told him that I would never let that happen, that I was very sure of where I stood.</p><p>Although, the way my brain processed the case regarding the skull tattoo guy, the dozens of possible children being his victims, and the deplorable ending that it had with Elena's death made me think that Spencer, as always, had been right all along. A big chunk of me disappeared when I decided to keep a straight face for the sake of the case and my teammates.</p><p>"You were right," I mumbled. "I should've quit back then. I am losing something just like you said, only that something is <em>me</em>."</p><p>"What? No. Don't listen to what I said. I was bitter because you lied and because I honestly thought you were not cut out for this job."</p><p>I opened my mouth as a result of the jolt his words caused me. So he did believe I was weak back then. I wasn't sure if I was angry at him or myself.</p><p>"That came out worse than I expected." He addressed after noticing my expression of displeasure. "What I am trying to say is that I knew you less than I know you now. I thought of you as some sort of delicate being that needed protection from absolutely everything." Spencer reached to grab my hand. He squeezed it tightly yet tenderly. "You've grown, but you haven't changed. Learning to control your emotions while working to prevent getting saturated with an overflow of them does not mean you are getting numb or apathetic. You need to take care of yourself, too, to help others efficiently."</p><p>I felt my eyes crystallization and a few tears promenading over my cheeks. I was sad because I wasn't sorrowful about a working case. How <em>frogging</em> dumb was that? Chances were that I didn't lose a bit of me while working the Wilcox case. It was possibly me trying to step up because a person who usually did it for me was not at her best game.</p><p>"The fact that you worry about not feeling like you believe is the correct way of dealing with this case is proof that you care. And that you are still <em>you</em>."</p><p>"But then if this is me, you are still right. I am not cut out to be a BAU profiler. I am weak. everyone needs to check on me to make sure I can handle things." I cried, still holding Spencer's hand firmly, his eyes mirrored my exact feeling of despondent. "I want to do this, but I don't want to lose who I am, and I don't want to feel like I am just a burden to the team either."</p><p>"You're no damsel in distress, Vivian, you have never been. The fact that you express your emotions with such ease is only proof of how strong you are, and have always been. You are not afraid to say what you think, how you feel, or share it with whoever asks. Do you know how much bravery that takes? I would never –listen…"</p><p>We got interrupted by our meals arriving at the table. Unconsciously we stopped grabbing hands, we had been doing that whenever someone from work approached us, and it had become instinct in so little time. The food looked delicious, albeit I couldn't bring myself to eat while having that heartfelt conversation with Spencer. Aside from that, I managed to tell the waiter the right amount of parmesan cheese that I wanted on my ravioli. When we got to be alone once more, he kept talking.</p><p>"You know why I like you?" </p><p>I shook my head in denial. I had never actually taken the time to think about that. I just delighted myself with him reciprocating my feelings. </p><p>"Because you don't need saving."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>I gasped and laughed in disbelief. What did he mean with '<em>you don't need saving'</em>? Didn't he recall that he had saved my life, literally twice? He must've been joking or being sarcastic. Yet he was not the sarcastic type, and his semblance remained serious.</p><p>"You are strong, smart, and confident, even if you say you aren't. Yes, you have trenchant emotions, and you lack experience in the 'suffering' department, but that is just what makes you resilient and fresh. You work in a field mostly dominated by man, and you maneuver yourself as if it wasn't a big deal. That's not weak."</p><p>He scrunched his nose. I knew how to take compliments, but not when they came from Spencer Reid. I lowered my view and took a fork to play a little with the ravioli, unable to meet his gaze.</p><p>"And last but not least, you don't hesitate to give me a fight when you disagree with me. Not many people dare to contradict me, yet you've done that ever since you were my student. I find that exhilarating and exciting."  </p><p>"Exciting?" I questioned and locked eyes with him again.</p><p>"Like you have no clue."</p><p>Other guys would've run as soon as I brought up sentimental <em>crab</em> on a first date, not Spencer, he didn't mind at all. He knew me enough to be aware of what kind of events to expect from me. I loved that. I loved that he understood that and didn't want me just to stop talking about my emotions. I loved that he even tried to make me feel better. And I loved most how he succeeded.</p><p>"I –I had no idea you thought so highly of me."</p><p>"Well, of course!" Spencer cleared his throat as he tucked pieces of his hair behind each respective ear. "Not to sound mean or anything, but I wouldn't insist on <em>us </em> if I didn't."</p><p>"Thanks, Spencer, that's so sweet."</p><p>The words genuinely left my mouth as a wide grin took over my face. I used my hand to clear out my face from any trace of tears that may have remained on it. He took his fork and also began to play with his chicken cacciatore.</p><p>"That's how relationships work, don't they?"</p><p>"They do," I answered. </p><p>He seemed nervous about it. Something he hadn't come across at the other parts of the conversation. "This is fine; we are fine."</p><p>The smell of my ravioli made my stomach growl, and I couldn't help but eat a piece of it, not without saying '<em>provecho</em>' beforehand.</p><p>As we ate, we managed to converse, drink wine, and laugh about many things. We chatted about the simplest things, like introducing Spencer to the world of memes, to more complex topics like our President's zero-tolerance policy against illegal border crossers. Even after we finished our meal, we talked until we finished the bottle of wine.</p><p>I was having a wonderful time. Everything else felt like it was second-class. I was truly lost in him, on his way of talking, the way his eyes squinted whenever he laughed hard, or the calm, tender stare he provided as he carefully paid attention to me when I spoke. I found myself smiling and tucking pieces of my hair behind my ear, like a dumb teenager all over again.</p><p>Spencer insisted on driving me back home, which I appreciated. He even went the extra mile and accompanied me to the mere door of my apartment. I stirred the stuff in my purse, looking for my keys. Meanwhile, he stood there with his hands inside his pants' pockets. I heard my dog on the other side of the door sniffing excessively as he knew I was home, but not alone.</p><p>When I finally got my keys out, I opened the door, letting Chamomile meet us. He greeted me with his tail wagging and a few licks on my hand. He surprisingly did the same with Spencer, who didn't think twice before petting him. They had only met once before. It was fascinating seeing them create a bond. Chamomile ultimately got tired and went inside the apartment again.</p><p>"Well…I had an amazing time, Spence, thank you very much." I talked as I got closer to him. "For everything."</p><p>I saw him swallow so hard I was able to distinguish his Adam's apple.</p><p>"Thank you, Vivian. I had an astounding night."</p><p>Before me even realizing it, Spencer was pressing his lips against mine. We had done that a few times before, but this kiss felt different in a way I was not capable of describing right away. It was still sweet, but it had an undertone to it that felt divergent to his regular kiss. His hands held my waist and attracted my body to his, leaving not even a current of air to flow between us.</p><p>The way his tongue insisted on getting access to mine was what ultimately clued me of the true intention behind that kiss. My hands went up to his chest, resting lazily on top of his formal vest, enjoying every bit of that unprecedented moment. A few seconds later, we broke away to breathe.</p><p>"Do –do you want to come in?" I asked with a strangely low toned voice. </p><p>He nodded.   </p><p>I let Spencer go in first, and he stood in the middle of my living room. Unlike the first time he had been to my apartment, his eyes stuck on me instead of my furniture. I left my purse and keys on the entryway table, then began reaching for him once again. My hands went straight for his hair as I pushed him softly to get him to my height level so I could have easier access to his mouth.</p><p>Spencer's hands held my arms firmly at first, then traced his way gently onto my hips. He finally stopped hesitantly before continuing his way to a lower part of my body. I giggled as a result of his prudish decision of not touching my butt. To my bewilderment, he used this brief pause to change the aim of his kisses, first on the corner of my lips, my cheeks, jawline, and then my neck.</p><p>Not prudish at all.</p><p>I was not sure of how to react. At first, I felt the inherent desire of pulling away, considering I didn't like anything near my neck area ever since the Dirk Henson situation happened. I had been avoiding tight necklaces, scarfs –except for Spencer's purple one-, turtle necks, and even my long hair tangling around it by accident. It was not something that kept me up all night or that I was hyper-conscious about, but when I felt anything too constricting in that area, I would feel like suffocating and instinctively would get it off. Somehow Spencer managed to make his kisses so tender and caring, yet filled with excitement that the original thought of getting him to stop vanished and allowed me to close my eyes and enjoyed the contact of his soft lips on the skin on my neck.</p><p>My heart beat faster than usual, my hands still played with his brown locks of heavy hair, caressing him. Never in a million years would I have imagined being in a situation like that with Spencer Reid. My throat betrayed me, letting out a high pitch type of moan, to which he replied with a similar but more resonant sound. I could've stayed like that with him for hours, but right there, right now, I wanted more.</p><p>Just as if he could read my mind, he stopped kissing and stared at me in the eye.</p><p>"I will be starkly honest with you." His voice sounded more profound and, in some way, fuller than usual. "I want us to, well…"</p><p>"Yeah." I interrupted him. "Lets."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi! A couple of things; </p><p>1) Well, this chapter originally included smut but it felt a bit weird to just throw it in there so I simply implied it...is that something you'd be interested in reading in future chapters? a separate work? not at all? </p><p>2) Since this is the last thing I will be posting this year, I just wanted to thank you for reading this story of mine or any other of my works, as small as they are. <br/>This was my first fic, the one that started everything for me and probably de dearest to my heart even if it isn't "popular" or whatever. I am grateful for having someone out there who enjoys my craft. </p><p>3) I know this year has been crazy but in a way it was the circumstances 2020 put us all in that made me start writing, something I actually love to do. <br/>Thank you for reading, following, reviewing and leaving kudos to my stories! I wish you all the best this New Year, that you can find something you love to do and that brings you happiness!</p><p>Happy New Year to y'all! Please stay safe. <br/>All my love, A.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. 30: Oh shoot. Mothersucker. Son of a Beach.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I felt like I was carrying a big old sign on my forehead that read: “Spencer Reid and I have sex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hated the walk of shame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter how many times I had done it. It didn’t matter that the night before Spencer and I had only snuggled and cuddled. It didn’t matter that we assaulted our go-bags whenever we stayed at each other’s apartments in order to make the walk of shame, less shame-y.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I just felt like everyone knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We had been careful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer had felt the unarguably need to do so the morning after our first time. We had arrived together to work, and we were just elated, in a very good mood. It was Rossi’s first day back at the job after his honeymoon and he immediately picked up that something was going on. He teased mostly Spencer about it. Ultimately, he managed to turn it around on Rossi, using his special sensitivity due to his honeymoon at his advantage to suggest to the old man that he was seeing things that aren’t there because he was feeling overall amorous. To which Rossi complied pretty easily, I suspected it had been that way because it was Dr. Spencer Reid who told him, if it had been anybody else, he would’ve called bluff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since then, we were meticulous about everything we did. We kept track of our glances, our contact and small talk at the office until we found the perfect balance so it wasn’t too much, or too little to raise any suspicion from anybody. We also mastered arriving together and getting to security without people thinking we actually drove in the same car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only thing that nagged me was the possibility of Penelope hacking my phone, or Spencer’s, and being able to see all the text messages we had sent to each other, and the long history of phone calls. I confided in her not to. After she got inside my cloud during the Las Vegas case, she promised me she would never do such a thing ever again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I opened the BAU’s crystal doors, entering the venue, Spencer closely after me. I made my way on to my desk like I did every morning, while he stayed near the kitchen area greeting Tara and Rossi who already had their respective cups of coffee and were lounging there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>JJ was sitting alone on her desk, watching her computer, I smiled at her and nodded softly as a ‘hello’. She had been pulling herself away from the team since the L.A. case. She was able to interact with everyone just fine whenever Spencer was not in the picture, to her dismay, that rarely happened. It was not like she could not act normal, it was more that she preferred to avoid the way Spencer addressed her, if she was lucky enough for him not to ignore her completely that specific day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an issue I tried to talk out with Spencer. As a female, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the way he treated the woman who once he considered to be his best friend. As his girlfriend, it was an attitude I found obnoxious. And as his co-worker, it was also a behavior that made things awkward. He had brushed it off by telling me he was ‘doing his best’ in order to get things back to normal. Yet I knew there was more to discuss, him liking it or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>JJ nodded in a response with a gentle smile on her face before she went back to her computer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I left my purse and go-bag on one of the empty drawers of my desk and turned my computer on, took my coat off, placed it over the backrest of my cushioned chair, where I seated myself afterwards. I commenced my regular routine, checked my mails, did follow ups on cases I consulted, worried a little that someone would randomly call Spencer and me out for dating. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The ushe</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Buenos días.” Luke's voice reached my ears, still my sight never left my computer’s screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Buenas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt his weight on the corner of my desk as he sat on it. He had two cups of coffee from Jamie’s cafeteria. His left hand offered me one. That was enough to capture my full attention. I glanced at him as I grabbed his gift. The unmistakable scent of Jamie’s signature salted caramel latte entered my nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t have” I let out before giving it a big sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke’s laughter was loud enough to make everyone in the unit turn around a brief moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything for mi niña favorita.” He added teasingly, to which I chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Through the distance I felt Spencer’s stare, he had heard what Luke said, but I wasn’t sure if he knew what it meant or the real intention behind it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are strangely happy and loving today, Lukey” I joked and poked his stomach. “Wanna tell me about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He squinted and tilted his head, weighting the pros and cons of telling me whatever he had in mind. He shook his head in denial and padded my shoulder. His overall visage reflected amusement, complicity and mischief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I don’t think I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boo!” I reproached him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where were you this morning anyway?” he asked, changing the subject before I could stir the previous topic enough to make him confess. “I knocked on your door and you weren’t there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh shoot. Mothersucker. Son of a Beach. Crab, crab, crab.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>frog</span>
  </em>
  <span> was he doing at my apartment that precise morning? Oh no. I was not sure if me being there with Spencer could’ve been worse than me not being there at all because I had spent the night in Spencer’s apartment. It didn’t matter. What mattered was to come up with something to throw him off…I was not confessing, not even to being with a guy because that would only give him a way to dig deeper to find out the identity of said guy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What were you doing at my apartment this morning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to surprise you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I raised an eyebrow, taking my time to analyze his face, every gesture, expression, as minimal as it was. To my fortune, Luke was way easier to read than Spencer. I called </span>
  <em>
    <span>bullship</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, that’s so sweet, Luke” Sarcasm was my best weapon whenever I felt cornered, I counted on him not knowing that. “Now. What were you doing at my apartment this morning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke’s lips parted as the gears of his brain struggled finding a way to answer my question without revealing too much. He was hiding something from me, and I couldn’t imagine what. I inferred that he would trust me enough with anything if he had the guts to tell me about his affair with our friend and colorful teammate, Penelope Garcia. So whatever he was keeping to himself was probably a big deal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why weren’t you home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You answer first.” I dared him, praying that the inverse psychology would work and he would drop the theme right there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I –I can’t tell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neither can I.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see, so that’s how we are playing now.” He smiled skeptically. “Alright, were you with a guy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the second time in the morning, every agent’s sight was on us. Including our teammates who were the only ones that brushed it off with no major issue to it, knowing that we got along like that. Penelope, who had been walking her now neon green high heels towards us, accelerated her pace in order to get in time to get the gist of the gossip she assumed was worth her full attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He smirked. “I believe a good night of shagging wouldn’t hurt, Viv.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alvez!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time I heard a few ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>shhh</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ from pretty much everyone around us except our regular team. I wanted to hide and bury myself underneath my desk. I placed the cup of coffee over my desk and, face palmed my forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait.” Luke added. “Was it a girl?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you with a girl?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was about to protest but Penelope’s voice stopped me before I could even try.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did I miss?” She adjusted her purple glasses over the bridge of her nose, her head shifting focus from my face to Luke’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Viv spent the night with a girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omg, really?!” she cried and massaged my shoulder fondly. “That’s so cute, I didn’t know you were into girls.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fourth time, this was the fourth time I fell victim of the hostile stares of the unit workers. I began to think that they probably did not like us very much. I looked at a few of them apologetically trying to make up for the disturbances. Penny’s hand made my chair turn so I could face her. Luke was having a blast laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Penelope, Luke, dear friends. I did not spend the night with a girl.” I stated, firmly but in a low volume to avoid anyone else joining us. “I am also not into girls. They are nice, but to my disgrace I find testosterone and a penis way more satisfying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My friends’ jaws dropped to the floor. I smiled at them innocently before turning my chair towards my computer’s screen to get my mind on something else rather than my sexual preferences.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then how come you haven’t been on a date since November last year?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tossed my head backwards and groaned as I grew tired of the whole conversation. It was getting dangerously near to me just saying that ‘I had spent the night with a guy, and I had not gone to a date since early November last year because I am dating our friend and colleague Spencer Reid’ just to shut them up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes, I noticed that too.” Penelope motioned to what Luke asked. “I thought you were giving it a go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was.” I explained. “I just felt like I was going in the wrong direction, so I decided to take a break. Clear my mind. And maybe try again in the New Year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honey, it's early February, you’ve gotten plenty of time to get back at it again.” My blonde friend insisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had seen a very somber part of myself when I struggled after Addison’s engagement and then being stood up by a random guy I was set up with. Thus I understood that they somehow worried about me and pushed me to do things that made me happy. But this was getting out of hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are not getting any younger, Contreras.” Luke added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I opened my mouth in disbelief. That was plain mean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys sound like my parents; ‘when are you getting married? When are you having kids?’” I baffled. “Which sucks because I can’t even tell them that I'm probably going to end up not having kids, because one; I don’t have a man I would like to procreate with, two; I don’t really see myself as a mom and three; the world is overpopulated as it is.” I ranted using my fingers to count my points. “But you are my friends, not my parents so I will be completely honest with you; I want to take a break from dating random guys just to try my luck. If someone great pops in my life, then awesome, if not…well bummer. There’s no rush.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Viv…” Luke began to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And don’t worry Luke, I’ve been getting plenty of ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>shagging</span>
  </em>
  <span>’” I used my fingers as quotations marks. “Very casual. Trust me, if there was something to tell, I would.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Penelope and Luke nodded. I felt bad for lying to them like that, and in a way minimizing my relationship with Spencer. However the recent event proved that once the cat got out of the bag, they would be completely nosy regarding the whole Spencer situation to the point it would get embarrassing and tiresome. I didn’t want that. I would detest having these types of conversations every morning. It was an executive decision and for the most part, right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, I am sorry we’re so meddlesome, the thing is that we care.” Penny added. “You know I’ll always answer your 1am calls but, I am not a fan of seeing you heartbroken or feeling lonely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know Pen, and I am thankful for it. I love you, both of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gave her a soft smile and shrugged my nose playfully, she did the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They knew more than anyone about my struggle regarding relationships and my attempts on getting back on the game. I guessed that a sudden change of heart on my end, not wanting to rush things and go with the flow seemed a little suspicious and that is why they were insisting on the matter. All and all I trusted that I could keep handling them at least for a bit more time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I focused my attention again on the computer’s screen, grabbed the cup of coffee and took a sip rejoicing myself with the heat god-sent liquid coming from it. Salted caramel latte from Jamie’s bakery was my favorite, especially during raw winter mornings like that one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I heard Penelope talking in the distance about her latest Amazon buy and how excited she was to try the newest desktop refrigerator so she could keep her sodas cold while being on her lair. I laughed a bit without looking at her, as she continued to ramble about the amazing things available in Amazon, and how striking it was for the words Amazon and Amazing being similar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was very amused with the new topic of our conversation, but Luke didn’t come across as that. He was a bit serious and looking at me, my every move. He must not have believed what I got to say about why stopped dating. I even felt like he was a bit pissed. Ugh, I couldn’t blame him. I would be pissed too if the person I considered to be my best friend kept things from me. Nonetheless my mind was set on maintaining my relationship with Spencer a secret for a bit longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you see, this is where the cat goes.” Penelope’s insistence on showing us more about her purchase made me turn to her, placing my eyes on the screen of her phone. “Hopefully Sergio will fit in it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I analyzed the picture not fully understanding how a cat would let a human place him inside a pouch on a dress. Nevertheless, I was not going to burst my friend’s bubble. She looked so happy about having her pet, Sergio, on a dress-carrier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should get one for Roxy.” I teased Luke by talking about his Belgium shepherd dog. And also in a lousy attempt to get back on his good side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snapped away from his thoughts and took Garcia’s phone to look at the infamous cat carrier dress. He cracked up at the ridiculousness of the garment. Penelope did not reflect the same amount of amusement as he did, in fact, it reflected the opposite, she was offended. My blonde friend plucked her phone from Luke’s hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And this is why we don’t actually get along.” She denounced, as the drama queen she was known to be. “This is why I-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be careful with what you are about to say, Garcia.” Luke taunted her with a tone to his voice that made it sound not really serious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garcia growled and took a deep breath to recover her composure. I found it extremely funny when they fought, especially knowing what I knew. And since I had the insight about their ‘mere sexual’ relationship, as Luke described it, I was able to notice the subtle things that gave them away; the glaring tension between them that translated in Penelope getting mad at Luke about the slightest inconvenience, the stare fights, they caring too much about me; whenever one of them did something nice, the other worried to do something nicer, like parents normally did, Penelope asking me about Luke whenever we were on the field, Luke subtle change of tone when he said Penelope’s name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made me wonder if the rest of the team noticed it too. Or again, if I was hyper-aware since I knew their little dirty secret and was unconsciously looking for those tells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It also made me wonder if my teammates noticed something similar from me and Spencer. We tried arduously not to be obvious, but it was in human nature to care more about the person they like, the person they sleep with and share intimate moments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was also the mirroring theory, which prominently applied to Spencer and me. This last thing had happened ever since before we got together and was the hardest thing to avoid. It was psychologically proven that when the person you like laughs or smiles, you do too, and the person you look at in a group of people while laughing, is the one you consider to be the most attractive. Being an almost involuntary reflex, made it harder to avoid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If I could discern these things, my money was on the rest of skilled and way more experienced profilers I worked with everyday could too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Argh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stop overthinking, Vivian.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penelope’s phone made a sound, announcing that she got mail. My friend immediately checked what it was and opened her eyes as if they were plates in awe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything ok?” I questioned her as soon as she made a sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should get Emily. I –you guys should get to the briefing room, we might have a case.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She urgently turned her whimsical green heels to our boss’ office a three step staircase away from us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penelope was our technical analyst. Notwithstanding, she acted as a partial media liaison every now and then, meaning most of our cases had to go through her first before getting to our hands, she also took care of certain information leaks and such. In the past, back when Erin Strauss was the section chief, JJ had functioned as a media liaison, her sole job was to handle every media outlet, filter cases and keep the BAU’s image as spotless as usual. Then she was sent away on assignment. That is when Penelope began taking bits of JJ’s former role to help the team out. JJ came back some time after as a profiler, her previous position was discontinued. It was all fine, considering Penelope had developed an efficient software that pretty much did the heavy lifting regarding selecting cases and the rest of us helped with the media when needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke and I followed her with our eyes until she disappeared into Prentiss’ chambers, closed door behind her. The curtains were up which allowed us to see how Penelope handed our unit chief her cellphone showing her something. Prentiss frowned and stretched her lower lip to the left. She did that when something seemed too weird, too baffling or too dreary for her to actually articulate coherent words. Luke and I decided to head to the briefing room as Penelope suggested we do when I saw Prentiss standing up and heading to her office’s door after exchanging a few words with Penelope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you going guys?” Tara asked when she saw Luke and I getting near the kitchen area before entering the briefing room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got a case.” Luke answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Emily has not told us anything.” Rossi intervened, took out his cell checking for any updates he might have missed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She will.” I used my chin to point at our boss making her way towards us with Penelope following her, clacking her shoes on the BAU’s floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rossi, Tara and Luke went on and entered the briefing room, as they were all familiar with Prentiss’ facial expressions as well as Penelope’s state of alarm. I was about to follow them but Spencer grabbed my arm not letting me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mi niña favorita?” He questioned, his eyebrows raised and his stare, just as his voice was judgmental.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing that came to my mind was to criticize his accent while speaking Spanish, per contra, he appeared to me that he was really bothered my friend’s dumb pet name. Making a joke out of it was not the right move. It had come to my attention that Spencer was particularly observant of the way Luke and I interacted. I fathomed that it was due to the newness of our </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> relationship and the evident already existing strong tie I had with Luke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It means ‘my favorite girl’” I said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what it means.” He interrupted me, and sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pursed my lips and scratched the lower part of my scalp. Spencer did not strike as the jealous type, but there he was making his first scene. I wasn’t sure if I liked that. I was used to being free and hanging out with whomever I wanted the way I wished to. Putting up with something like that constantly would definitely be a deal breaker. I hold on to the idea that it was only circumstantial and that he would eventually stop once we were steadier enough to let our colleagues know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luke’s one of my best friends, we are tight, so yeah, he’s got some pet names for me. Nothing you should overthink about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I just…” he began to elaborate, his voice turned into a whisper that made me realize that he was not exactly jealous about Luke. “I don’t like that he gets to express his affection openly and I don’t. I am sorry, Viv.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was jealous about the liberty we had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer’s demeanor changed completely, his eyes resembled the ones of a hurt puppy. I had to stop myself from reaching his cheek to comfort him. JJ was approaching us, only a few steps of advantage on Prentiss and Penelope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll get there, promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as I said that, I entered the briefing room, not wanting to stay more than I had to near Spencer alone. I sat on my regular spot by Luke’s side, the chair on my right side still empty since Spencer had not joined us yet. I glanced at the big glass windows and saw JJ and Spencer talking, well, more like JJ saying something and Spencer disregarding her. They were finally interrupted by Penelope and Prentiss who finally reached our meeting spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four of them came into the room, got into their regular places before Penelope grabbed the control she used to present the cases on the big screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Naples, Florida, otherwise known as…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Home” I said under my breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone turned to watch me, astonishment across their faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They knew I was from a relatively small town in Florida but I had never told them exactly where. The only ones who knew were Spencer and Prentiss, since they had read my file. I felt that revealing that I came from one of the wealthiest towns in the U.S. was going to propitiate them to see me in a different light. They already saw me as the untouched, naïve, spoiled girl who always had everything sorted out for her by mommy and daddy, was used to being the center of attention and whom until recently, had practically ignored the crudeness of reality. Adding ‘rich’ to the list would only make things worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were aware that my family had money, they just didn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>how much</span>
  </em>
  <span> money.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going to say the second-highest proportion of millionaires per capita in the U.S. but I guess that works too.” Penelope mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My heart raced as a million scenarios ran in my mind about anyone I knew getting hurt. Naples had a little over 22,000 residents, of course I did not know absolutely everyone, but I knew enough people to worry. Being a case where the Behavioral Analysis Unit from the FBI assistance was pertinent, meant there were multiple casualties, and that itself made the odds of me knowing at least one of the victims extremely high, well, at least to my comfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer mirrored my expression of concern, his hands had been lingering over his lap under the table just as mines. I felt his pinky reaching for my own in an attempt to enliven me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are we being called in to Naples, Florida?” He asked, not letting another second slip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah –well, we got three victims. Two ladies and a gentleman”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penelope’s voice was shaky, as the empathetic woman she was, and her affection towards me, I was convinced that this case had become personal to her as well. She pressed the buttons on her control letting the pictures of the afflicted pop up on the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but to sigh in relief when none of the faces presented to me were familiar. I let a chuckle leave my lips and shook my upper body, letting all the fear out of my system. The case being set in my hometown needled me, but not knowing any of the victims made it like any other case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My tablet’s sound obligated me to snap out of it and get back in my game. I turned the screen meeting the first documents of the file.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were found like this in their homes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Several pictures took over the screen once more, to the naked eye, each one of them contained a mound of sand…no, of ashes. They weren’t bodies, they were piles of ashes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My eyes toured the table as I tried to decipher if my teammates were as confused as I was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were cremated?” Tara was the bravest to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Correctly.” Penelope affirmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It takes at least 3,000 degrees Fahrenheit and a minimum of three hours for a body to be turned to ash like this.” Spencer’s knowledge left his lips pointing out the inconsistencies of the murders as he usually did. “The odds of the three of them being incinerated to this point without any foul play are extremely low, closing to zero.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then, how?” Rossi questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prentiss was still analyzing meticulously the images and extra documents on her own tablet. She exhaled deeply before finally turning her sight towards us, she prepared herself to talk:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s for us to find out. Wheels up in 20.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. 31: Prom Queen Is Back In Town</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sunlight, ocean breeze, the distinct smell of the salty water and coconut sunscreen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What an amazing feeling being home was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wearing a tank top, sunglasses, my hair up on a high ponytail; it all made me feel so </span>
  <em>
    <span>freaking </span>
  </em>
  <span>good, powerful and confident.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>78 degrees Fahrenheit were way better than D.C.’s excruciating 17 degrees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sweet lord” JJ complained as soon as she left the SUV’s air condition, she instinctively searched for a hair tie so she could put her hair up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the team had similar reactions, getting their coats off and leaving the possible least amount of clothing on. It wasn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> hot, they better visit Florida during the summer to actually face heat waves. I laughed at their dismay for the heat and inappropriate wardrobe choices. I was not to blame them, since a couple of hours prior we had been dealing with a white morning, courtesy of the previous night snowfall. Classic winter weather of D.C.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was betting on them carrying heat suitable clothes on their go bags, like I did. We normally made our go bags not knowing where the next possible case would take us, so we had to consider every possible option. As I had foreseen the punching heat that was about to welcome us to Naples, I changed my top and got rid of the thermal undergarments on the plane. They told me it was being a little ‘dramatic’, but I knew my city better than anyone else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way, even the police station looks expensive.”  Luke pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had all been talking about the beauty of the buildings, but also about how everything seemed like it was worth more than our year’s salary; people and pets included. I did not say anything on the matter because money was the least impressive thing in Naples according to me. To me, it was home, the place where I spent my childhood with my family, where I met my best friends, where I spent the best weekends and summers as a teen. Where I learned to swim, to ride a bike, to dance, to help others, to be happy and to love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The word ‘money’ did not pop into my mind when I heard Naples, Florida.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Viv, I got to ask.” Tara spoke. “Are your parents, ahm-” she stopped herself to find the right word. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>affluent</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There it was, the most dreaded question. I was not into talking money. I despised that once people find out about your acquisitive power, it was the only dimension of a person they could see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was more to me than that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever since I was a little girl I felt that way, however, because most of the people who surrounded me were in the same position, it was easier for me to be mindless about it. I was no different from them. My family’s money didn’t amaze them because they had money too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of me having trouble socializing at college was the fear of only being seen as a rich spoiled girl. That, plus me lacking a strong support system like I was used to, took me to the edge, which ended in me closing off for several years. It was hard to find my place in life when I took off ‘rich, popular, fun and beautiful’ out of my resume.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The funny thing was that the first 18 years of my life I considered that ‘intelligent, loving, kind and determined’ complemented the ‘rich, popular, fun, beautiful’ part. Because that’s who I was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sad part was that at some point along the way, during college, I got so caught up worrying about not being ‘rich, popular, fun and beautiful’ anymore that I forgot about my other qualities, and told myself that those frivolous adjectives were the only ones I could award me. Ended up with nothing but insecurities and isolation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On a high note, since working in the FBI, more accurately, in the BAU, I began to feel like the Vivian I was before college, minus the super partying, drinking portion of it. Alright, maybe just a little of it. But that was only because Penelope forced me to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My team finding out this big piece of me was scary. I did not want them to change the way they behaved with me. I was terrified to lose the respect and status I had earned with my hard work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They do well, if that’s what you are asking”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not saying anything else on the matter, I directed myself towards the entrance of Naples P.D. Luke was right, it looked high-maintenance with all the pretty landscaping and the perfect retouched painted walls. I pushed the door letting myself in. My teammates followed closely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way, Vivian Contreras!” I heard a female voice squeaked as soon as I placed a foot inside the building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I squinted trying to make out who the person was greeting me. For lack of better wording, a soccer mom ran towards me. I was almost sure I had never seen her before. But she did know my name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” I said imitating her high pitched tone of familiarity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the team stood still behind me watching the whole thing, awkwardly waiting for someone to tell them which way to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God, you look gorgeous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, the fakeness in my voice was no stranger to me, at all. I had been using that same tone of voice my four high school years whenever someone said ‘Hi’ or ‘Good morning’ to my group of friends and I in the hallways. I replied to them in that exact tone so I would not come across as rude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t remember me.” The woman finally said.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ship. </span>
  </em>
  <span>So much for my ability to maintain a convincing façade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s ok, you shouldn’t have to. I am Becky Henderson.” She said enthusiastically, I nodded, still clueless of her identity. “I was a freshman when you were a senior. Rings a bell? No?” She sighed. “I was the only freshman to attend senior prom, I helped you get on stage when you received the crown.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, yes. But also, no. I remember having trouble climbing to the main stage when I was named prom queen and some random person helping me out, saying ‘thank you, girl’ to that person and proceeding to kiss my boyfriend Oscar. The rest of the night was blurry, mainly because I got hammered really fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wore a golden dress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Golden dress!” she joined me making it sound almost as unison. “You remember, that’s so sweet!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, thank you again for giving me a hand back then, I would’ve been embarrassed to fall on my face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh God, no. We would’ve never let our queen fall like that.” Becky replied soon after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glanced at my co-workers, still hearing us talk. Luke was repressing his laughter at the situation by pressing his lips together and using his fist to cover his mouth. An officer came by and showed them the way. Prentiss made me a sign letting me know that they would be waiting for me once I was done chatting with Becky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, FBI, eh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, how do you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well everyone pretty much knows about it. Like if you go to our High School, there’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>freaking</span>
  </em>
  <span> wall with important alumni and your face along your buddies’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geez.” I said genuinely surprised. “And what are you doing here, Becky?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I was just bringing officer Clements a tray of freshly baked cookies to thank him for his hard job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, what did he do?” I was intrigued. A thousand movie-worthy scenarios crossed my mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He helps my little boy Taylor and other kids to cross the street to get to school.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Very noble, indeed.” I responded hoping the disappointment in my voice was not obviously notorious. “So, Becky, it was really nice to see you but I really need to get to work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah yes, I heard about the incidents” the blonde woman jumped in quickly. “Does the FBI think that they weren’t accidents?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry, Becky, I can’t comment on that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, how dumb.” She fakely slapped her face, that big old smile still there. “I’ll let you get to work. So exciting! Take care Vivian.” She began to walk towards the exit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sighed, that was close. I still had little to no idea of who she was, but I handled it like a pro. I searched the precinct for my team and was unsuccessful at first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vivian!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now what?! I turned around to meet the person who spoke. A smile lit my face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gerry!” I cheered. “How’s chief Anguiano?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gerry was the police chief’s son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, but retired.” He answered, the grin he portrayed told me that he was not very bummed about it and he had good reasons not to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way! You are now Chief Anguiano!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. I always figured that Gerry would eventually grow up to join law enforcement and at some point to take his father’s place. He was a few years older than me, but had been around because he was friends with Oscar’s older brother. He was the type of kid that was exhaustingly behaved by the book. I could hear his voice through the distance saying stuff like ‘don’t play on the grass’, ‘no adult watch, no swimming in the sea’, ‘organic in the green, inorganic in the grey’, ‘you’re underage, you can drink alcohol’, ‘no sex on the beach, O’Malley, Contreras! Break it out, I will tell your brother, Oscar!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gerry accompanied me towards the room where my team was settling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your majesty has decided to bless us with her presence.” Luke joked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I casted him a deadly stare. The same went to whomever laughed with him, so pretty much to everyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh God, no. We would’ve never let our queen fall like that.” Tara imitated Becky with striking similarity. “Ah, remarkable!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone cracked up once again. Great. From Luke I expected, but from Tara, not so much. Even Gerry let a laugh escape. I covered my face with my hands and let myself fall in one of the available chairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gotta admit, for a moment there I thought you didn’t know that girl, and I was beginning to think ‘awkward’” JJ’s voice sang the last word as she fought her laughter. “Then you bounced back with the golden dress thing. How do you even remember that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t.” I confessed. They calmed themselves and used their piercing stares to invite me to explain further. “It is a tradition in my school for non-seniors who attend senior prom to wear gold or blue, my school’s colors, that way they can all look the same while seniors stand out with different looks. I just picked a color and tested my luck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shrugged my shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s Viv, too popular to know everyone that knows her.” Gerry added, padding my back softly. “I am sorry. I haven’t formally introduced myself, I am Chief Gerry Anguiano, Naples PD.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He extended his hand towards Prentiss, she shook his hand and proceeded to introduce the rest of the team briefly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know her too?” Tara asked. Gerry nodded. “Unbelievable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was friends with her boyfriend’s older brother.” He explained further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ex” I corrected him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, ex, whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funny how you said that, Anguiano. Want to share something with us?” Luke pried with his eyes full of mischief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about, we begin working the case?” I suggested. “Prentiss.” I practically begged my boss to stop them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I agree with Contreras, the case is what’s pertinent right now. We can discuss Vivian’s private life later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughter filled the room yet again. This was going to be a tough case, and not exactly for the reasons I imagined earlier. After a minute or so, Prentiss cleared her throat and put herself together returning to her sober, leader-y semblance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s enough.” Her order sounded like a suggestion, like she always managed them to sound. “I know this case is a bit eerie and there’s a lot of unknowns. So first, let’s focus on something easy; victimology.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got Albert Wells, 82, widow. Owned a bunch of piers along the Florida coast, charges really high for a boat to berth on them.” Rossi introduced our first victim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Candace Hills, 75, also widowed. She owned and ran a hotel right on the beach here at Naples.” Tara informed us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last but not least, there’s Margarita Estrada, 78, married, and co-owner of a Florida themed souvenir distributor with her husband.” JJ exhibited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a pretty evident pattern there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All of them are senior citizens.” Luke pointed it out before I could. “And loaded.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could this be some sort of gold-digger murderer?” Spencer joined. “The connection and possible motive is pretty obvious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call Garcia”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prentiss dialed our friendly technical analyst’s cell. A tone went by and she answered. She was already on speaker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My children, your wish is my command.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garcia, who immediately profits from our victims’ death?” Rossi asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a very cold, sad way to put it.” Penelope answered, offended. “But I’ll look it up, give me a sec.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The commonly known sound of her fast typing echoed in the room. All of us were waiting for her to share her finds so we could proceed. Finding a will from these people sounded like a relatively easy task for the all mighty Penelope Garcia. Strangely enough, her typing went longer than usual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garcia?” Prentiss called her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhm, I am having a little trouble accessing those documents. Seems like wealthy people are covetous of their wills.” She proclaimed. “This might take a little longer than I thought. I’ll call you back ASAP.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penelope hanged and we all found ourselves staring at each other, not knowing what our next move was. As Prentiss had said earlier, there just were too many unknowns. The classic, ‘Why?’, ‘Who?’ met with ‘When?’, ‘How?’ The last two questions would normally be solved with the help of an autopsy and a forensics’ report on the crime scene. But we had none of those.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we going to get a chance to talk with the fire department?” Tara asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are, but not until tomorrow, they are still running tests and analyzing meticulously the crime scenes. They don’t want to meet us until they get something substantial.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what about the coroner’s full report, Em?” Spencer brought up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It will be ready in a couple of hours,” Prentiss explained again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we too early or something?” Luke complained in face of the apparent lack of preparation from Naples P.D.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When we found a third victim this morning, I thought it was too much of a coincidence for three people who shared similarities to be involved in fires that incinerated them randomly in their homes. So I requested more digging, until then, the F.D. had been going on ‘accidents’” Gerry talked for the first time. “That’s when I called you guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had been watching the dynamic of the group, the magical process of making a profile. Lamentably, we did not have a great start and were cut short. Gerry was counting on us to explain the unexplainable and thus far, we had only been hitting walls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone rang, and I reached to answer the call. Penelope being on the other side of the line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I finally got them, buckle up, secure yourselves because this will be quite a ride.” Her always uplifting voice announced, then cleared her throat and commenced. “Sweet Margarita left her share of the company to her husband, and her personal savings to his son Rodrigo. Most of the Estrada’s possessions are already in her husband’s Miguel name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much are we talking about regarding her savings?” Tara questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re talking seven digits here. Trust me. A lot.” I could almost see Penelope articulating the word ‘a lot’ as big as she could. “Carrying on, there’s Albert, aw, such a lovely guy it seems. He often donated to environmental and children’s charities and he stated in his will that beneficiaries must continue with this otherwise the assets will be removed. Beneficiaries in this case are both of his sons, Liam and Jesse, 50, 50. Including the house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The house? How do they split the house 50/50?” Spencer’s voice made me look his way. He was invested on the file he had in his hands that he missed to notice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent question as usual, doctor. There are three options according to this; they sell the house and split the profit. Second option is one of them keeps the house but pays the proportional sum to the other brother, so they can still be even value wise. And lastly, if they both want the house, it automatically goes to Albert’s niece, Avalon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s quite a mouthful” Prentiss scowled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been paraphrasing these, so you don’t get to complain. Reality is that they are way more complex than I am making it sound.” Penelope praised herself. “I am chewing and spitting in your mouth so you don’t work harder, like a momma bird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grimaced at the thought of actually her chewing and spitting at us, it did not come as a surprise to find out the rest of the present people in the room were doing the exact same. No one said anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was too much, was it?” Penelope’s tiny voice through the speaker broke the silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Candace?” JJ asked, leaving behind the awkward subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes. Candace left absolutely everything to his daughter Camila, but get this: Camila passed away from a heart attack four months ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So who’s got the jackpot?” Rossi spoke, he always said things in a way that made them sound out of a mystery movie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be Candace’s granddaughter; Luna. This is where it gets funky.” A tint of excitement in Penelope’s voice like she had whenever she uncovered something presumably important. “Luna also passed away two weeks ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to her?” I talked for the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boating accident. Isn’t that just straight out of a classic noir film?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Penelope, if Candace’s daughter and granddaughter are dead, then who gets to keep the gold?” Luke rushed our friend to get to the point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ruin my fun.” She complained. “But Luna’s husband, Jacob gets the gold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I saw all of my teammates adopting a victory smile, as if they had cracked the case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I, on the other hand, considered we were not anywhere near to understanding anything from it. I was more worried about how a person burns to death in their houses and no one notices it, and that we had only ashes and feet remaining from the corpses. Finding the suspect was no good to us if we didn’t know the how in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In other circumstances, more normal circumstances to be precise –if anything we saw was considered normal-, I would’ve believed straight away that Jacob was probably behind all of this to get to Candace’s wealth and used those other poor people to make it seem like there was a bigger thing going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But not now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting to calcinate a body was hard, Spencer had explained that earlier; 3000 degrees, three continuous hours. Going through all of that trouble just to get some money, seemed to me a little far fetched. There were easier ways to kill someone and get the same outcome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to bring in everyone who benefits from the deceased wills for questioning.” Prentiss ordered. “Maybe we will get lucky and they’ll just confess. Save ourselves some time and the headache of trying to figure out how exactly this happened.” She pointed at the picture of the incinerated bodies on the board.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s gonna be tough”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, Penelope?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Except from Candace’s grandson in-law, Jacob, none of them are in town”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt bad. How come they were not in town? Their parents just died. It didn’t matter to me how busy I was, how many important things I had to do, if one member of my family passed, then you bet your </span>
  <em>
    <span>ax</span>
  </em>
  <span> I would drop everything to get to them. Maybe it was only me who thought that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Margarita’s son, Rodrigo is landing first thing in the morning though.” Penelope pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s no use, if they weren’t here during the events, I don’t think they can help.” Prentiss said with fatigue in her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would still consider them persons of interest, Emily. They have money, contacts, all the means to hire someone to do their dirty work.” Spencer elaborated. “I think it would be worth it to have a chat with them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone agreed with him, because he was partially right. Penelope sent the phone numbers, addresses of everyone who she had named during the will’s reading. I heard Tara and Spencer planning out the questions they considered pertinent to ask once we got the chance to talk to them. Gerry left the room to coordinate with some officers to bring in Jacob, since he was the only one in town. They all looked like they were finally getting somewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet I still did not buy the whole money-motivated theory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think this is about money.” I interjected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all stopped and turned my way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Spencer asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I don’t think any of these people knew exactly what they were being left with if their parents died.” I shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To me it made sense. I had more insight in how families managed their money and their fortune. But they didn’t, I continued explaining.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The chance of someone getting their hands on a will, especially from a wealthy person, is super low. That’s why Penelope had difficulty accessing them. They are extremely careful with it, precisely to avoid these sorts of situations. They don’t go around sharing how much they are going to leave to their kids, grandkids, spouses, friends, sometimes, they don’t even hint who is included.” I sighed, thinking about my own experience. I did not know if I was in my parents’ will, less the amount that may come my way. “Listen, I can promise you that if you ask Jacob, Rodrigo, Jesse or Liam, even Avalon, if they knew about the will. All of them will genuinely deny it. Ask them about the clauses, they are going to be clueless. Normally these types of wills will have clauses after clauses as a backup so their money won’t end up in some random person’s hands or the government.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They could’ve learned about it from someone else, a notary or a lawyer perhaps.” JJ mentioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I highly doubt that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But still possible.” Rossi affirmed. “I get what you are saying, kiddo, but we can’t overlook anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know” I let out a big exhalation. “I just –I have this feeling that there’s more to this than just killing for money. The way they got killed, the fires, we don’t even know if it was murder or an accident. But hey, I’m still green, I can easily be wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I laid my face on top of my fist over the chair’s armrest. This was the first time that I felt that I was not on the same page with the rest of the team while working a case. And frankly, it made me feel like an outsider. I was afraid that I might lose the ability to think accordingly if I didn’t’ shift my perspective promptly to fit theirs. But I also could not shake off these other ideas regarding the case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just a matter of time to discover who was right. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. 32: Muy Bonito, Vivian, Muy Bonito.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So you didn’t know about Candace’s will?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you sir; no. I was not aware that if something happened to her I –I”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jacob cracked once more, it was the fifth time during the interrogation that had happened. He was bawling his eyes out.  In full honesty, I felt kind of bad for putting him through such a traumatic situation after everything he had experienced in such a short amount of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was the boss' orders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rossi, who was conducting the interview along Tara, looked over his shoulder to the double sided-mirror. Luke and I stood there watching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I –I just want my family back.” Jacob lamented himself, his shoulders shivered from crying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This man was not a man who could’ve pulled off such atrocious murders –if they were murders to begin with-. I was almost certain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where were you two nights ago, February 3</span>
  <span>th</span>
  <span>?” Tara intervened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there anyone who can confirm that?” Rossi added right away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jacob’s face began to disfigure as he struggled to contain one more time his heavy tears. He ultimately let it all out. Apologizing over and over again for not being able to keep a straight face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I would be lying if I said I got what he was feeling, because I didn’t. But I could place myself on his shoes. Losing people that were dear to him? God forbid I had to go something like that. The last question Rossi threw was only a reminder that was alone. Newly alone. He used to share a home with a woman he loved, and now he was all by himself in those exact rooms and halls. He used to have a loving wife and two weeks earlier, he lost her. Forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No wonder why this poor man was unable to keep himself together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My skepticism on the posture the BAU had acquire on the case had saved me from going in to that interrogation room with Jacob. And I was more than ok with that. Most assuredly I would have left him alone right after the first time he broke. Au contraire, Rossi and Tara were pushing him to the limit in hopes of getting a confession from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which I believed would never come on the grounds that I didn’t believe this whole thing was about money.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t do it.” I sang, still watching through the mirror. “Look at him, he is devastated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Psychopaths tend to put on facades that can easily lead you to believe what they want you to believe.” Luke argued. “You should know that, psych.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that, doofus.” I replied in the same tone as him. “And because I am aware of how manipulative they are, I’ve been hyper aware of his micro-expressions. Look at his jugular, he is throbbing, his whole body is shivering just enough, his eyes…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, I get it.” My friend stopped me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He also doesn’t need the money, according to the file Penelope sent, his family is even richer than the Hills.” I included.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That I believe. Why do all that if he was already well-heeled?” He began to theorize. “Too risky for such little payback.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded. I felt myself regaining confidence in my skills as soon as Luke agreed with me on at least a little thing. If I was right about my hunch, then I should’ve been worried about trying to prove my point. It would all fall into place eventually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke beginning to doubt Jacob’s involvement was a big step going on that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My attention shifted back to what was happening inside the interrogation room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If no one can confirm your alibi, Jacob, then you are still a person of interest.” Tara told him, her voice was soothing yet her words were pungent. “I am sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For God’s sake! I lost my wife two weeks ago! Please understand that I had nothing to do with her grandmother’s death. She was the only thing I had left of Luna…please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh no, there it was, again. He was begging Rossi and Tara to put themselves in his place. His back laid on the backrest, which was the only way he could keep his body straight. He was weak, tired, and extremely hurt. His hair was messy, just as his clothes. I guessed that when you experience that kind of pain, the way you present yourself to others is just, </span>
  <em>
    <span>pointless</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt a knot forming on my throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t watch anymore.” I deplored.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke did not fight me when I left his side to exit the little niche adjacent to the interrogation room, normally used for other people to watch the process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I scanned the place trying to find another place to go, some other team member to help.  Last time I checked, JJ and Prentiss were taking another look at the crime scene shots in order to try to come up with a good explanation on the ‘how’, at least while we got an official statement from the fire department.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Rossi and Tara interrogating Jacob, Luke watching it, JJ and Prentiss at the conference room going through crime scene pictures, Spencer was probably alone somewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I proposed to find him. We had not been completely alone since we left his apartment early in the morning. The status of our relationship was not ideal, but I firmly believed that getting it out there was going to be worse.  I was mindful that Spencer was not exactly thrilled with the way we were handling things mainly because his goal was not to keep things to himself, nonetheless he had experience firsthand the terror of one of our colleagues almost catching on, so he complied with me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you seen Dr. Reid?” I asked an officer that was passing by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pointed to the emergency exit door at the end of the floor. I thanked him and walked to said door, opened it to step out of the building. I found myself in the most gorgeous police station surroundings. Green grass and tall palm trees framed the pinkish colors of a classic Florida sunset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, I loved my hometown so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I rapidly searched the area before finding Spencer sitting on the grass with his legs crossed in a very childish fashion. His focus was on a file, his fingers changed pages quickly as his over-average brain processed things fast. The hand that was not occupied, rubbed its fingers with each other, this he did to avoid getting overloaded mentally. It was one of his little tricks to attempt to minimize the chances of frustration or stress to take over him. He had told me himself about it.    </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The puffy grass allowed my steps to be swift and light-weighted, not making any noise. Spencer was giving me his back and was so invested in what he was reading that he did not notice my presence until I was hugging him from behind. My knees met the grass and my arms wrapped around his neck and fell onto his chest. I had checked several times that we were actually alone before doing that, obviously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flinched before realizing that it was me. His face turned slightly to meet mine, my head rested on one of his shoulders, he was smiling. One of his hands inherently placed itself over my arms, reassuring the grip. Spencer looked around making sure that no one was there to watch what he was about to do. He then leaned and kissed my lips sweetly and shortly. We did not want to risk it further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My eyes immediately went to the file on his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that the autopsy?” I asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” He answered. “Apart from the obvious calcination of the bodies, nothing really stands out” His face twitched expressing his frustration. “I have no idea of what to think, this never happens to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself.” I nagged him. My hands slid onto his shoulders, pressing them. His muscles were hard, and not exactly because he was fit. It was tension. “This autopsy was performed on a foot, a foot that somehow survived the fire, obviously there’s not going to be much to it.I’m not even sure this can be called an autopsy in the first place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I let go of him and sat by his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but I should be able to catch on things others don’t. They all count on me to do so, and with this, well, I feel blocked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer rubbed his eyes and his face as another sign of stress. He was used to being the smartest guy in the room, or the building, or the block, even the f-ing city. When he hit a wall like he was doing down, it led him to a downward spiral and a session of him pushing himself to the limit in order to break that wall. Spencer claimed that he felt that way when he considered that he was not ‘delivering enough’ was due to his responsibility as a federal agent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Be that as it may, I knew that it was also partially because of his ego; 187 IQ, 20,000 words per minute, eidetic memory, a bunch of studies that I found hard to list all the time, people calling him a genius, his random knowledge of almost every possible thing…After prison, his credibility at Bureau had been question, he worked hard to get back his previous status. Now failure was not an option. What would our team think of him if he didn’t have all the answers?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hold myself back at the realization that I was profiling Spencer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The BAU had a rule, though it wasn’t written, it was something every member agreed on at some point; no profiling the teammates. And for a good reason, profiling was a very invasive thing to do when done correctly, it shred a person’s qualities and used the most impactful events of someone’s life to obtain the rawest bits of themselves, thus reducing them to a sole dimension.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting to the minds of our co-workers felt simply wrong. Like snooping their phones or lurking at their web search histories.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Spencer was not only my teammate, so it felt doubly wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just need to relax, unwind…reset your mind and then you can go back to it feeling sharper.” I suggested. He grimaced, he wasn’t buying it. “Maybe I can help you with that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I raised my eyebrows playfully. His whole visage changed immediately; he relaxed a bit, his eyes lit up and the corners of his lips formed a smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, how?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pushed my tongue inside my cheeks various times in a naughty way, expecting him to pick up on what I was trying to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t know what that means.” Spencer spoke calmly and with a straight face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment I thought he actually meant it. I was aware of him lacking ability to recognize social cues, but come on! This specific one was well-known. I was not saying the words, it was not very me to do so. In fact I was going out on a limb by merely acting it out. I was not exactly prudish, but inserting certain terms on a regular context made me cringe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I must’ve looked disgruntled because he began to laugh shortly afterwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes you do!” I called him out and opened my mouth in annoyance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Viv!” He kept laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way Jose, I am not saying it.” I shook my head. “You got the gist, take it or leave it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blowjob.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spencer!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He asked amused, his eyes squinted from laughter. “Oral sex, blowjob, give head…all apply”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It did not came as surprise the lack of minced words on his end. He was a man of facts, terms, of straightforwardness, he called things by its name, while I preferred to keep certain things abstract. Also, he was getting really comfortable around me. Every second we spent together, he loosen himself more and more revealing bits and pieces of his personality I would’ve never known otherwise. I loved that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt more comfortable with him too, though I considered that it was more a matter of leaving the awkwardness of the first times behind and not so much about the layers of my personality flourishing. I always thought that in a way, I was an open book. Yes, there were layers, but I allowed people to see them with more ease than Spencer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, that.” I whispered. “Take your pants off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer closed his legs pushing them together, not allowing me to reach the buckle of his belt. He grabbed my hand before I could even get close to it. His eyes popped and his mouth was open ready to protest, his chest moving fast due to the adrenaline and scare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Payback time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I cracked up at his very tangible fear. He slowly released my hand from his grip. A nervous chuckle joined my very loud and frantic laughter. It took me a while to recover from the expression of his face when he thought that I was going to get on it right there, right then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll swing by your room tonight.” I announced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t dare.” Spencer spoke, no trace of the previous amusement in his voice. “You wouldn’t risk someone to see you sneaking to my room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was right. I had not been able to bring myself to do that in any of the cases we had worked since the first time we were together </span>
  <em>
    <span>together</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not even to snuggle, or cuddle. I just did not want any of my teammates wandering the halls casually and catching me on the act, or Spencer for all I cared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nonetheless, I felt bolder this time. Perhaps the fact that I was home was what gave me a sense of having permission to do whatever I wanted. Perhaps seeing Spencer so frustrated gave me the push I needed. Perhaps I just wanted to prove him wrong and stop disappointing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sighed as my brain worked its hardest coming up with something to tell him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vivian!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We both turned back to face the voice that had called my name. My heart raced as the idea of said person being there enough to hear the entire conversation took over my brain. I adjusted my sight in order to distinguish that Gerry had been the one who addressed me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone’s looking for you!” he shouted again so his voice could be heard through the distance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glanced at Spencer one more time before standing up, instinctively brushed my pants to get the remains of grass off from them. He smiled wistfully and nodded letting me know that it was ok for me to go with Gerry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As I walked towards the door to get back inside, my head went full speed trying to sort out who was looking for me. There were a fair amount of options, but none knew I was in town so I couldn’t put my finger on anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gerry guided me through the station back to the conference room. To my surprise, all of the team was gathered there already, meaning Spencer and I had been ‘suspiciously’ absent. I hoped no one picked on that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No visitor in sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go get her.” Gerry spoke as if he had listened to my thoughts and left the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her? Was it Becky again? Because if it was, I was not feeling in the mood to deal with her. Distracting my mind was better than keeping overthinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you guys were still interrogating Jacob” I addressed Tara and Rossi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rossi shook his head and waved his hand as an expression of disappointment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Penelope found some security videos that confirmed he spent all night home, sleeping on his couch.” Tara explained further and sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Good. Because this case isn’t about money, my gut told me so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We had to let him go.” Prentiss informed me. “However, Garcia is still in the looks for any strange activity in his bank accounts, just to clear the possibility of a hired assassin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, disappointed that they were still pursuing the money angle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Muy bonito, Vivian</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You come home and I learn this from a yoga friend instead of my own daughter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt how every little hair of my body rose and slowly became a goosebump as soon as I heard that voice. I had been facing my team instead of the door so I did not see the person right away, yet I knew exactly who it was. My stomach shrugged in a good way, hundreds of emotions invaded my body within seconds. I finally turned to face her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mamá</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” I jumped to hug her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hug felt like everything I was yearning for. Like the medicine I needed to fix all of my problems and fears. I felt safe in her arms, always felt that way and probably would always feel the same no matter how old I got. As we grew apart from the hug I was able to take her in. She looked just as beautiful as the last time I saw her. Most people agreed that we looked alike, except for the hair, hers was straight while mine was wavy and frizzy. She was carrying a big bag that I presumed contained food due to the smell coming from it. I heard my tummy crying to get some.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” She spoke in her firm motherly fashion. After all, she was a Mexican mother, tender but feisty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I finally managed to put aside my state of elation, it clicked to me that my whole team was there watching. I rubbed my face and nodded, grabbed her hand and invited her to follow me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, mom, this is my boss, SSA Emily Prentiss” I said, my voice shaking due to the exhilaration of seeing my mom without expecting it. “Em, this is my mom, Pilar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prentiss offered my mom her hand, yet she rejected it and went straight for the hug and kiss on the cheek, like we were accustomed to. While it notoriously took Prentiss by surprise, she finally gave in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Es un placer.” My boss articulated in Spanish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “So that’s JJ.” I continued with the introductions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The mother” Mom pointed before hugging JJ, who by that point was prepared for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rossi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The writer.” The exact same happened, mom hugged him and Rossi kissed both her cheeks.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That guy there, with the dumb smile is Luke” I joked pointing at my friend. He laughed. Mom didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No seas grosera, Vivian.” She nagged me, asking me not to be rude to Luke. I lowered my sight. She proceeded to hug him. “The best friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s correct. See how she treats me?” Luke played the victim. “Es dificíl lidiar con su hija”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I opened my mouth to complain about Luke accusing me with my mom of being ‘hard to deal with’, however, she already had my back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tampoco te pases.” Mom said in a strong tone, yet I knew she was just messing around. “Usted tampoco parece un santo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perdóneme” Luke apologized after he heard my mom calling him out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Síguele eh.” I teased him. “That’s Tara.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The mentor.” The woman who birthed me took Tara into an embrace longer than the rest. “Thank you so much for believing in my Vivian, truly.” She told her, for her tone of voice I could tell she was getting sentimental. “And thank God for all of you who take care of her on a daily basis. You have no idea of how grateful I am for all of you. I pray for your safety every single day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A mix of ‘thank yous’ and ‘gracias’ filled the room. My teammates seemed genuinely moved by my mom’s words. It didn’t matter if they believed in God or not, a mother expressing how much she is thankful for their child’s safety, always got to everyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I found myself wanting Spencer to be there, yet he was nowhere to be seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As a small token of my appreciation, I brought you these.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My mom opened her bag and took out several containers with food. She placed them on the table, not before clearing out the space from gruesome pictures and files.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you shouldn’t have Mrs. Contreras.” Tara spoke, her words said one thing, yet her hands reaching for the food meant another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, it is Pilar. And Vivian has told me that when you work cases out D.C. you often skip meals or eat takeout.” She shook her head. “That’s horrible for your health, no, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ugh, eating mom’s food again? Such a blessing in tough moments like working a case. Even with my parents’ acquisitive power, my mom never hired someone to cook for us, she always did it herself. It was one of her biggest passions, in fact, she dreamt of opening a restaurant someday. My father promised that it was going to happen at some point, however they were busy most of time with their main business, which was a landscaping company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I helped her by passing out some plates and glasses she had brought for us. Everyone helped put away everything case-related so we could have a nice meal in the conference room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are going to experience some authentic taco’s night.” My mother announced as she took the lids of the plastic containers. “I got arrachera, bistequito, nopalitos, guacamole, hand-made tortillas, not those awful hard-shells, sauces and horchata.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Horchata?” JJ asked, her eyes scanned the white milky liquid in a pitch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is a Spanish originated drink that many Latin countries like Mexico adopted and put their own twist on. Its basic composition is from Yellow Nutsedges, also known as ‘Chufas’ mixed with rice flour. Most people later add some sugar, cinnamon, vanilla, powdered milk and even coconut or almonds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, that mini lecture could only come from one person. I turned around to meet Spencer standing at the entrance of the conference room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have only tried it once, it is sweet and delicious.” He added. Everyone’s attention was on him, including my mother’s. “You must be Viv’s mother, it is really nice to meet you, ahm, ma’am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had stuttered the last part. My mom left what she was doing and approached Spencer, she stared at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom, this is Spencer…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The doctor genius.” She interrupted me. One of her brows was raised as she inspected him carefully. “How did you know I was her mother?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, for starters the resemblance is striking. It's like seeing Vivian in twenty years' time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grimaced, I was mostly sure that he did not process what he just had said to my mother. Women in general didn’t like their ages to be revealed or to be told that they are old, but Latinas…we were a little more passionate about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“20 years time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My mom asked. Spencer gulped hard enough for all of us to see his Adam’s apple, he began to stutter and ramble about how time is relative and that it didn’t matter because it was a man’s built concept. His desperate attempts on getting to my mother’s side were cut off by her laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so funny! I actually like you.” She stated and went in giving Spencer a hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was not expecting it, yet he didn’t pull away. Probably the rest of the team was surprised with it on account of the fact that Spencer hated contact from strangers. But they didn’t know that my mother was not to be a stranger anymore. Not to get very serious, but technically, she was his prospective mother-in-law. He had to get her to like him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I, personally, was not worried about it. I could see him trying his best without pretending to be someone else. I too knew my mom, and she was a light-hearted person who would find the good in everyone and was prone to make friends with whomever crossed her way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“20 years time, that’s magnificent because in reality, when you look at me, you are looking at Vivian in 30 years time, not 20.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer gasped, and for the first time in a long time he was actually speechless. He glanced at me and raised his brows in a questioning manner. I nodded, agreeing with my mother’s real age being thirty more than mine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look so young.” He said, still baffled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what you get with brown-skinned gals. The melanin in our skins helps prevent wrinkles, flaccidity and spotting, pretty much anything the sun’s UV rays can cause. The more melanin, the higher the chance for us to stay young. I am sorry ladies.” Mom apologized to Prentiss and JJ who just nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one said a thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? I know stuff too. Did you think Vivian’s intelligence comes from her father?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughter filled the air. Mom re-joined the table and continued serving my colleagues. They all sat around the table and began to dig in. Their faces of pleasure and delight filled my heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on Pilar, sit with us.” Rossi invited my mom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish, but I gotta run. I have a business related compromise. So excuse me. Please enjoy it.” She apologized and grabbed my arm. “Come with me, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I instinctively glanced at Prentiss like asking permission to leave. We were still on working hours, so I had to stick by my boss’ orders. Prentiss used her head and her hands signaling me that it was ok if I left for a bit. Her mouth was full from a big bite she took from her taco, which made me giggle a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stood up and walked my mom out of the station. Once we were out, Naples’ ocean breeze hit enough to get my hair on my face. Mom used her kind hands to fix it for me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to talk. Can you swing by the house later after work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is something wrong? Are you sick? Is dad sick?” I questioned right away, fearing the worst.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, we’re not sick. I just need to talk with you. That’s all.” Her voice was soothing, calm. I had no reason to believe that she wasn’t telling the truth, so I forced myself to relax. “Should I expect you later?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll ask Prentiss, I don’t think she will mind though. So yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect. Te amo, mi amor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yo igual, mamá.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. 33: How Psychological Pain Imitates Physiological Pain.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I parked the black SUV outside my house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had not seen it in over a year. Big, beachy, yet cozy and warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In that driveway I learned to ride a bike. On that palm tree my dad built a swing for me when I was 5. On that grass I buried my first dog, Muffin. In that garage I had my first make-out session with Oscar. On the roof I hung Christmas lights with my father. On that window that faced the kitchen, I spent hours with my mom chatting about life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was not a house. It was my home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned off the SUV’s engine, grabbed my go-bag, the bag with all of my mom’s food containers, and went in the main door’s direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had the intention of staying there to sleep. Prentiss had said that it was fine on the condition that I had to be extra attentive to my phone in case something came up and they needed me back in the field.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I could even ring the bell, my mom opened the door for me and let me inside. I left my bag on the entrance as an instinct. I used to do that whenever I came back from school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything inside looked exactly the same; same décor, same wall-art, same floor, ceiling…but still, something felt off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My tummy began to turn, a million ideas invaded my mind as for the uneasy feeling the house gave me for no apparent reason. I alluded it to my mom wanting to talk with me, more than anything from the house. Right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She offered me some wine, which I gladly accepted. I sat on the high stools of the island in the heart of our home; the kitchen. She poured herself a glass too and sat on the bench beside me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is the case going?” she asked. “I read on the paper about the fires, poor people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t really say anything about it, I’m sorry, mom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt weird not to tell my mom absolutely everything that was going on with my life. Specially those things that bothered me most, things regarding the cases we worked in. I compensated for not telling her about the cases by telling her about my team. That’s how she knew who was who when I introduced her to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did they like the food?” She changed subjects.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you kidding? They loved it.” I answered before taking a sip of my drink. “Really, I had never seen them eating like that before. It was delicious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled proud of it. In the end, cooking was her passion, what moved her. Getting kudos on it was just mesmerizing for her, I imagined. She took her glass and leaned to take a sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did your boyfriend think? Did he like his new mom’s food too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My jaw dropped. Boyfriend? How did she…? I never told her about Spencer and me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A mother always knows.” She answered before I could elaborate the full question. “For the short amount of time I was there, the poor thing tried to get on my good side, like really hard. You got really happy when he showed up baby, all your face lit up, and…he checked out your butt. Twice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not my boyfriend…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vivian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we have not used those words exactly.” I finally admitted, finding it pointless to even dare try lying to my mom. “But we are…</span>
  <em>
    <span>dating.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It shows. Just wanted to let you know that.” She chuckled before taking another sip to her wine. “But don’t worry, I only noticed because I know you like the back of my hand. Your friends, profilers and all, don’t know you like</span>
  <em>
    <span> I</span>
  </em>
  <span> do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My smile took over my face. It felt nice to tell someone else about Spencer and me. Jamie knew too, and so far I had been bombing her with everything Spencer, and my feelings. I was beginning to believe that she was getting tired of the subject, but my sharing nature made it hard for me to keep it to myself. Now, I could tell my mom too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was having a good time, she wasn’t. I could tell. Her eyes reflected sadness, worrisome, stress all disguised as her natural state of calm. The nervousness I felt earlier kicked back in as well as the fact that my dad was not home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I checked the time on my phone; 10:37. 37 minutes past his curfew. As silly as it sounded, my dad imposed himself a curfew to avoid overworking. He always did his best to be home before I fell asleep, ever since I was a child until I was an 18 year-old teen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom, where’s dad?” I asked. My voice had a shakiness to it, reflecting the fear and anxiety my stomach had been holding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed and lowered her view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was about my dad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She said that he wasn’t sick. Was this about the business? About his green-card?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I finally met her gaze, I realized that my mother was crying. She reached for my hands, holding them tightly. Her jaw was shaking as she fought to calm herself down to talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My chest was hurting, my breathing was heavy yet I felt like no air was coming in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom!” I begged her to talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your father and I split. We’re getting a divorce.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I whispered in disbelief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How did this happen? They love each other so much. They had been through a lot together. Why?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took me a moment to process the true meaning of her words, but once it hit me, tears fell from my eyes with the same intensity as if a dam suddenly got pierced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt my family falling apart. And with it, my whole world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Never in my life had I experienced such pain. Never. It was an emotional pain, but it translated to my body. I felt as if someone was punching me thousands of times in my stomach, then jumping on my abdomen. My throat felt like it was closing on me and I was choking again. I reached for my neck trying to get whatever that was causing me to asphyxiate off of me, but there wasn’t anything physically there. It was the pain my heart was experiencing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was unconsciously connecting the biggest physiological trauma I had experienced with this new, gigantic, psychological trauma. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stood off from the stool, trying to stop myself from hyperventilating as a result of my desperation of trying to reach for air. My mom’s arms embraced me tight, attempting to calm me. I fought it a few seconds, not wanting the closeness from anybody at that moment, but ended up giving in as I bawled my eyes out, slowly falling back to the seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hija, mi amor…” She tried to comfort me. The initial tears she was shedding were now gone. She was more upset about my reaction than her separation from my father.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took at least ten minutes before I could pull myself together, enough to actually hear what she had to say on the matter. I had so many emotions. But most importantly, I had so many questions. I used the back of my hand to clean up the water on my face. My breathing was slowly going back to its regular rhythm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When?” I questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About three months ago.” Mom answered. Her hand reached for my hair trying to fix it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice was calm. It was as if she already had come to terms with it. Three months ago? It took her three months to be ok with it. In no way compared to almost 40 years of relationship, but with the right mindset, it was doable.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was planning on telling you when you came home for Christmas, but you didn’t.” she explained further. “And I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, understanding her decision. I don’t know what I could’ve done if a bomb like that was dropped over me during a phone call. This was better. She was there to guide me through it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What put me off was the fact that if this case had never happened, I probably would’ve spent so much more time in the dark regarding my family’s status.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” My voice cracked, however I did not cry again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mom tilted her head to the say, left to right, several times. She was trying to find the correct words or a decent explanation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you left for college, your father and I found ourselves having trouble connecting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“College? 10 years ago?” I raised my voice, baffled with the news that whatever happened, its beginning took place 10 years prior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sí, mi amor. It was like the only thing we had in common was you and the company, nothing else. We tried, Vivian.” She stated, her eyes began to water a bit now. “We really did, for you, for our family, for us…because we’ve been through so much together, like coming to this country empty-handed and building the company little by little until it became what it is now. Like having you and raising you to become this amazing woman that you are, that we are so proud of.” She stopped cold. “But it didn’t work. The spark wasn’t there anymore. I love your father, and he loves me, don’t get it wrong. What we lived together, nothing can erase it just like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I agreed with her and reached for her hand. I wanted her to know that I wasn’t mad, nor angry with her or dad, I was just sad. Something was ending. A big chunk of my life was coming to an end. Endings were always sad. When it came for your favorite story, it was sadder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We just don’t work as a couple anymore. That’s it. We’re still friends, we’re still working together, and foremost, we are still your parents. Ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok.” I assured her, one more time, a tear made its way down my cheek. “Where’s dad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s in Orlando. We got some pretty sweet contracts for the landscaping of some resorts there and he needs to be there to supervise everything. It is a high-profile client, so…He also needs a fresh start.” Mom added quickly. “We’re not getting any younger, both of us need to live our lives at the fullest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand. It is not fair for you guys to hold back.” I assured her. “I am sorry I wasn’t here to support you mom. I should be more involved with my family…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh please. Don’t.” She interrupted me. “You do you. Live your own life. Don’t let your old folks’ problems get in the way. You have a great job, great friends, and for all I know, a great boyfriend. Or whatever you call Dr. Spencer Genius.” She pinched my cheek, like she used to do when I was little. “Focus on that. This chapter is ending, but I assure you that the ones coming are going to be better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t find any words to tell her that I believed her. That I felt like it had to be that way. She always said that God gives as much as he takes. I was sure that whatever ruled the universe; God, Mother Nature, Karma, Dharma, the Universe itself, had to have a balance. Which was just me paraphrasing mom’s statement and basically my life’s motto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We then stood there in silence. Looking at each other. I let everything sink in as much as I could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was my time out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day I had to show up to work like nothing was happening. It was supposed to be a big day since we were going to finally have the opportunity to talk with the Fire Department to get more insight in the fires that caused our victims’ deaths. I had to be at my best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to be able to stay here tonight?” Mom asked, breaking the silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, the room is already paid, so I am required to use it.” I partially lied. “You know, since the money comes from the people’s taxes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can pay the money back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t.” I opposed it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She studied my face and realized that I did not want to stay there. Right now it was too raw for me to sleep at home knowing that I was no longer complete.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I apologized to her again, helped her wash the glasses we used, and then she escorted me to the door. I grabbed the go-bag I had left there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We hugged one last time tightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The SUV was waiting for me a few meters away from the door. I got inside of it, left my bag on the co-pilot seat and started the engine. As I backed up, my mother waved goodbye, so did I, a least for a brief moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As I drove my mind went blank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hotel the team was staying at was fairly known to me, and so were the Naples’ streets. So my head took the liberty of zoning out on me during my whole ride.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I finally arrived, I parked the SUV near the other two my teammates must’ve driven from the station to there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t lying to my mom when I told her about the room I was staying in was already paid for, but I lied when I said that I was required to sleep in it. Prentiss had told me that she was making an exception being that I was home and I needed to reconnect with my mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After signing in in the front desk, I forced myself into the room I was assigned to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once I was in, I sat on the corner of my bed. I was tired, yet I didn’t feel like sleeping. Not a bit. I grabbed my phone and began to elaborate a text:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Spence, are you up?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As I waited for an answer, or the lack of one, I took my pajamas from my go-bag and changed into them, feeling more comfortable after a long day of wearing tight pants and boots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My phone’s screen lid up, I could see it all the way from the bathroom door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, I am.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Which room are you in?”</span>
  </em>
  <span>  I replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>413</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a moment for me to realize that he was just next door. It was not super risky if I went there with him. Just two steps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two steps and a pinch of bad luck could end up with anyone from the team catching me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you coming?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With that second text from him, my mind just told me to f</span>
  <em>
    <span>rog it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I needed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two steps was a small price to pay if I wanted to see him. I grabbed my toothbrush before sending him one last text. If I was doing this, it had to be on my terms, reducing the time I spent on the hallway, therefore reducing the odds of someone seeing me there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Count to five and open the door.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span> As soon as I sent it, I began to count myself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>1, I got to my own door. 2, opened it. 3, 4, those two steps from my room to his. And finally 5, he opened his door and let me in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt adrenaline rushing through my veins, almost as if I was chasing a perpetrator on the field. Nevertheless, it had only been two steps that I had to walk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed the door behind me and took a look at the peephole making sure no one saw it. When I finally saw his face I noticed that he was just as anxious as I was. We shook it off with a long nervous laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “You actually dared.” He mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I scanned him, he was wearing a pants and long-sleeved button up set of pajamas with a rather fun print of colorful paint splashes. His hair was messy, as usual and the bags under his eyes were a bit more notorious than early on the day. It was a little past midnight, which wasn’t crazy late, in the past, we had had to spend whole nights awake while working. This was nothing. Opportunities like this one to get off from work at 10pm to have good night’s rest during a case were minimal. Most would choose to take advantage of it and get as much rest as possible. Not Spencer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the files on the room’s desk, the scattered crime scene pictures on his bed, and the half-finished cup of coffee on his nightstand, I could easily tell that he was staying up in an attempt of getting ahead with the case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I got myself as close as his body as possible, he stood still, watching my every move. I fondled with his hair, like I loved to do. It was soft, wavy, light, just perfect to me. My hands traveled onto his cheeks, the feeling of his little facial hair beginning to grow did not bother me at all, I was already used to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had known Spencer for a bit more than a year at that point, and had only been really close to him for the last three months, but for some reason it felt like I had known him for far more time. As cliché as it could sound. He gave me a sense of familiarity and safeness. While I hadn’t mastered the ability to fully read him all the time, I had fair knowledge of his expressions, of his gestures and other subtleties.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And apparently he did too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice was sweet and so low in volume that it almost disappeared at the end of the phrase.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In my brain, I was keeping it cool, hiding that a few hours prior my whole world had collapsed. I realized that maybe keeping things bottled up was not my forte at all. I had a tell, several of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My intentions were to get a little steamy with him, to put my mind into something else rather than the fact that I was heartbroken. I was not planning on forever holding the emotions in, I was going to tell him eventually. Right then, I just wanted to feel him close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Spencer knew better. Genius, profiler, lover, human…I was dumb to believe that I could get away with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stepped back and scratched my eyebrow out of anxiety. My stomach began to turn once more and my breathing got heavier as the feeling of anguish and extreme sadness took over me again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know you can talk to me, Viv.” He added, the same tone he used before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shortened the distance I had imposed, he reached for my hands showing his full support. I couldn’t look him in the eyes, because if I did, most assuredly it would end up with me bawling my eyes out. I didn’t want that to happen, my head already pounded enough from the first round at my parents’ house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My mother’s house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pressed my lips together trying to stop the shakiness my jaw was experiencing due to the effort I was making not to cry. Spencer forced me to look at his eyes, filled with concern as his mind began to elaborate a bunch of scenarios of what might have happened at home that triggered what I was going through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as his hazel eyes met mine, I crumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not another second went by before he pulled me close and used his whole body to embrace me as tight as he was capable of without hurting me. His chin sitting on the top of my head as I sobbed uncontrollably. My moans were muffled as my face was buried over his chest. He didn’t talk. He just let me be, I’m not sure for how long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All I know is that by the time I was done and I finally let go of him I was able to see the wet spots I left on his shirt. My face felt swollen and probably red, my eyes itched and I was most certainly covered in a mix of tears, boogers and spit. For a split second I felt truly embarrassed and my first instinct was to hide in the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I closed the door after me, but forgot to put the lock as I hurried to take some paper and clean myself, ignoring the mirror completely. I didn’t want to look at my face, I felt gross and disgusting. I had cried many times before about a lot of things; things with little to no meaning and things with heavy sentimental value. But nothing like the way I broke down while Spencer held me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was still suffering a few spasms as the residue of the extensive weeping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I come in?” I heard Spencer asking on the other side of the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I inhaled and exhaled deeply a few times first, then I opened the door meeting his gaze for the first time since I ran away from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” I babbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” He demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, I am so mawkish.” I tormented myself before daring to talk. There I was, anew, crying and getting all sappy with him. His semblance told me that he was distressed because he wanted to help but couldn’t because he was clueless about what was going on. “My mom and dad split. They are getting a divorce. It is official.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I announced with a surprising passivity. Guess I had let out all the tears my body was able to produce a few moments ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer’s muscles relaxed after I finally shared with him the origin of my heartache, yet his face remained concerned, gloomy and somber. He understood what that meant for me, I didn’t have to explain more. He hugged me one more time, in the same fashion as before; his chin over my head. On this occasion, I was not tearing up anymore, furthermore, it felt revitalizing. He stroked my back tenderly, as I listened to his heartbeat as a result of the closeness of my ear to his chest. The rhythm it had felt soothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry, Viv.” He said. “I wish there was something I could do to make it better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You already are.” I whispered, closed my eyes enjoying his touch.  “I know I am not the first nor the last human to see their parents’ marriage end, and that I am a full grown adult but…my family is my family. I cannot not mourn losing it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I let myself go from his grip to look him in the eye, he grabbed a piece of my hair and tucked in my ear in a pointless effort to fix the mess in my head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Spencer conceded. “Let’s get out of the bathroom, come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I followed him back to the room. He picked up all of the pictures and files and placed them inside his satchel that lingered on top of a chair near the desk. I sat down on the bed, he joined me soon after with a bottle of water he obtained after assaulting the mini-fridge. I drank almost half of it as my throat recovered from the dryness all the crying left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it crazy to think that it is my fault?” I asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is normal that you feel that way, every kid feels like that at some point when their parents split. But it is not. You had nothing to do with it, Vivian. They are adults and can make their own decisions” He explained. “10 year old, 27 year old…when mom and dad break up, it doesn’t go unnoticed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> I scrunched over to his side and rest my head on his shoulder, he placed his on top of it,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to be mad at them, Spence. I really don’t, but there’s this speckle of anger that is bugging me.” I confessed. “They chose to end things now before it got to a point where being even friends was no longer an option. I respect and understand that. They tried for almost ten years to make it work, still it feels like they could’ve done more. Like I could’ve done more. Perhaps if I took a job near home I could’ve been their glue. Perhaps if I didn’t choose to be an FBI agent they would’ve never begun to disagree with each other. I could’ve pushed them together again. The worst part is that I know that that’s me being selfish, nevertheless I can’t help but wonder if I could’ve done more, if they could’ve put a little more effort into their relationship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a moment of silence after I finished talking. I didn’t know if something that I said had bothered him or he was just thoughtful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When my father left my mom, I was ten. My mom’s mental state was deteriorating, her schizophrenia episodes increased, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> decided to leave us.” Spencer spoke. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I was such an idiot for complaining about my parents splitting. “I blamed myself; maybe if I wasn’t a genius he would’ve felt a little compassion for mom and he would’ve stayed, he wouldn’t have assumed I could handle it. Maybe if I had begged him to stay, he would’ve complied. Maybe, maybe, maybe. It was no use, Viv. He chose to leave, period.” There was a hint of indignation in his voice. “Then I placed the blame on my father; he left my mom and me when we needed him the most. He never reached out to me. I had to be the man of the house at age 10. I had to take care of my mom, bring her her medicines, remind her that she was safe and push her to get out of bed. I spent almost 17 years hating him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand searched for mine and held it. He was trying to calm himself down by doing so. He rubbed his hand whenever he was anxious or stressed, now it was mine. I wasn’t sure if he was conscious about it or not, but I let him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like actual hatred, despised. I almost sent him to jail.” His voice reflected a little of amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No joke. I almost did. I had been having these dreams about him killing a boy I knew when I was kid, I tried to build a case around it and it backfired big time.” Spencer continued to explain. “That’s not my point, what I am trying to say is that for 17 years I raged against my father for leaving me and my mom, and when he tried to reconnect I pushed him away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head separated from mine, this led me to search for his eyes. He was serene and melancholic. I acknowledged almost immediately what he was about to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am losing my mom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spence, don’t say that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is fine.” He hushed me. “I already accepted it. I am losing my mom sometime soon, maybe not to death, but her mind someday will just…dissociate completely, and with it, the memory of me being her son will vanish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I squeezed his hand, knowing there was nothing I could’ve told him to convince him otherwise. I also didn’t want to, because the truth was, that Diana was a ticking time bomb. Spencer was doing everything he could by finding her the right doctors, the correct care in order to slow the process down. At the end of the day, the fate Spencer described was inevitable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The imminent fact that I will lose her, made me wonder if staying so enraged towards my father is worth it. I would’ve lost both parents” He licked his lips, gulped hard and frown, trying to detangle his own thoughts. “Don’t be mad at them. Not even a bit. Don’t push them away. I am not saying that your feelings aren’t valid, what I am saying is that we need to understand that they are human. They get scared and make mistakes just like us. It is not fair for us to judge them so harshly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right, Spence. It isn’t worth it to lose them because of this.” I talked with my puny voice. “I’m just sad because this big important piece of my life just ended, my family is like my backbone, is the reason I am who I am…I truly thought that our life was perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no such thing as perfect.” He interjected, he used one of his fingers to lift my chin. “I guess it was easier for me to get over my parents splitting because they never displayed their affection to each other like I assume your parents did. You being a family-oriented person is what’s hurting you the most. The thing is that you have a life now beyond your parents’ home, you don’t even live in the same city as them anymore. You have your own apartment, your dog, friends, this job, and you have me. Focus on that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded agreeing with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It continued to hurt, there was no way on Earth that the pain was going to go away just like that. But I felt calmer. Accepting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I loved my parents, but I had other things to think about. As a dependent person, detachment was one of my biggest issues. I had experienced it when I left my high school friends behind and now I had to go through it again, this time leaving in the past the idea of my family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was just lucky enough to have a guy who understood and was willing to support me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I let a big sigh mixed with a good old yawn out of my body as soon as the gears of my brain ceased turning. I was finally giving myself permission to rest. I had worked a regular working day, bawled my eyes out like I had never done before in my life, I had talked, and cried again, I also had the chance to put some order into my thoughts and feelings by conversing with Spencer. It had been a lot for one day and my body was passing the bill to me in the form of yawns, tiredness, and an unbelievable headache.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I leaned once more, surrounding his torso with my arms in a hug, and placed my head on his chest, finding the beating of his heart relaxing. Spencer also passed his arms around me, holding me closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry this is not the midnight visit you were expecting.” I apologized, slurring my words, not having even the strength to talk properly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled, one of his hands traveled to my hair and toyed with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry. I actually think it would’ve been a little weird if we actually did something while all of our teammates are just a few meters away from us.” He sounded amused. I giggled too. Ah, some positivity for a change. “Walls are paper thin. They would’ve known right away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that reminds me –my mother totally knows we’re together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you tell her I am your boyfriend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boyfriend?” I inquired, pulling away from his body just enough to see his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was abashed. His nose wrinkling gave away that he was getting increasingly nervous. As I told my mother early in the night, we had never used those terms before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t –isn’t that what I am to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” I assured him, a grin from ear to ear. I placed my head back on his chest soon after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. I was beginning to think that you were going to make me ask you to be my girlfriend like if we were teenagers.” He joked. I detected a trace of disquiet, which made me giggled yet again. “How did she find out if you didn’t tell her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I hadn’t to tell her because a mother always-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A mother always knows.” Spencer completed the phrase for me. “Interesting, my mother says that too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She also said that you checked out my butt twice, so…” I teased him, finally freeing him from my grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face began to turn into a shade of pink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I –I can explain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t have to. I don’t blame you.” I joked for my mere pleasure as he got more and more uncomfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another big yawn caused me to cover my face and buried it in my hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go to bed, it is late. We have an early morning tomorrow. Come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer climbed on to his bed, he arranged the sheets and pillows so I could join him on the other side. I was very sleepy, could barely keep my eyes open. Nevertheless I needed to go back to my room, it was my only chance while the rest were asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ow, but the bed looked delicious, warm, cozy…and Spencer looked too snuggly and cuddly. I craved to stay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So I did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Placed myself under the sheets, and pulled myself near his body. We were facing each other. His eyes reflected tiredness as well, his own yawn interrupted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night, Viv.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night, Spence.” I responded. “And thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anytime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smiled at him sheepishly before closing my eyes letting Morpheus do his job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could worry about getting to my own room unnoticed later.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. 34: Lieutenant Rodney Freaking Peters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Knock, Knock</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ugh no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hadn’t even been six hours since I went to bed. I felt my head pounding, probably it was some sort of hangover from all the crying I did the night before. I didn’t want to open my eyes, they felt heavy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps the sound of the door was only a product of my tired brain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I allowed myself to go back to my full state of relaxation and doze off again.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Knock, Knock</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time I heard growling, yet my brain did not register who it was from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reid! Wake up!” The voice was accompanied by more arduous knocking on the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I heard Spencer growling, as his hands pushed me closer to him, so we could snuggle a bit more. He was facing my back and holding me as the little spoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was then that it hit me that I was in the same room as Spencer and that someone was looking for him. Probably someone from our team.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reid, come on!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My ear detected that who was talking was Prentiss. I forced myself to open my eyes, the alarm clock on the nightstand marked 5:23am. We weren’t supposed to be up until 8:00. I scowled and complained softly over and over again for having stayed up so late. Though it was probably for the best. My little conversation with Spencer had made me feel better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer’s phone lit up as he received a bunch of text messages. A couple of seconds later mine got a call: “Emily Prentiss” written on the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spencer…” I whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhmm.” He answered more asleep than awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Emily is looking for you, you should answer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What time is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Early. Must be an emergency.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I heard him sighing and cursing before standing up. He stretched and yawned a little on his way to the door.  His steps were  weak-kneed, probably because he was not fully up yet. It was like looking at Bambi learning how to walk for the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” He asked at loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meeting in the hallway in five, Reid.” Prentiss announced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A second went by before the noise of a door, other than ours, slamming got to our ears making both Spencer and I frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sniveled, it was not a thrilling idea to begin my day so early after having a very jagged night. I sat straight on the bed and watched my phone ring but without answering it as I stretched my back and neck. Right after the call went to mail, I got a text from Prentiss: “We got another body. Meet us at the station ASAP.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s right. I told Prentiss I was spending the night at my parents’, she wasn’t aware that I was in the hotel with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gotta go.” I announced standing up. “Have you seen my key?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you left it on the desk.” Spencer answered. His eyes scanned the room before spotting said key exactly where he said it was, he grabbed it and gave it to me. “You shouldn’t go out like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?” confusion all over my voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pointed to my night wear. I looked down and studied the short shorts and noodle strap pajamas top. It was not exactly revealing, but it was not an appropriate outfit to present myself to my boss and teammates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, use this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He offered me the hotel’s robe, I put it on not letting another second go by. Prentiss had said five minutes, but none of my colleagues counted meticulously the minutes before exiting their rooms. I snooped through the peephole making sure no one was already on the hallway. I figured that I could also wait until they were all gone to finally leave Spencer’s quarters. But the FBI agent part of me was more concerned about this new body than anything else. I didn’t want to waste time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before opening the door, I forced myself to stand on the tip of my toes so I could reach Spencer’s lips and gave him one last kiss, fully aware that probably it was the only one we were getting during the whole day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you in a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opened and closed the door for me. My main concern was to take those two steps to get near my own room. Using the key, I tried opening the door, perhaps I got enough time to go inside and then out again for show purposes. Anyhow, as soon as the door unlocked, I heard another one being opened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hey Viv. I thought you were staying at your house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pulled the wooden panel closing it. If someone took a peek on my room, they would promptly know that I didn’t spend the night there; everything was untouched, my bag was still put together and my bed was still made.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned on my own axis to meet JJ’s inquisitive eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I came back yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” She answered, not convinced at all, but didn’t push it either.  Her face was adorned by a playful smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We soon were surrounded by the other members of the team, the last one to join us being Prentiss. She expressed her startle to see me by dropping her jaw a few inches, then she adopted the same type of grin as JJ.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Staying at my parents’ house? Yeah…it felt weird to be there while you guys are all here.” I interrupted my boss before she could finish articulating. “I dunno. I couldn’t sleep without thinking that I might miss something here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I am glad you’re here. I need you and Dave to go to the newest crime scene.” Prentiss ordered. “The Fire Department is working there right now. It is vital to get their report and assessment in order to continue our investigation. And I got a feeling that they will use this new victim as an excuse to hold back yet again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe Vivian can use her connections.” Tara proposed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, guys, just to be clear, I don’t know the whole town.” I objected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, apparently most of the town knows you.” Prentiss shrugged her shoulders. “Who knows? Maybe there’s someone at the Fire Department willing to speak to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As much as I didn’t like it, my boss, as usual, was right. There was a higher chance of people speaking to me directly than to the rest of the team. Mainly because they knew me since I was a child and trusted me more than they trusted the FBI as a government agency.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This the fourth death caused by a similar scenario. The odds of three people getting incinerated by accidental fires in their houses are ridiculously slim. Four…” Spencer chuckled with incredulity. “Four is just on the border of hypothetical.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and the period in between each fire has shortened. First two were a week apart, then three days and now, two days in a row.” Luke marked out. “There’s no way in hell that these are just fortuitous fires, guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever since the beginning, most of us had our money on arson and not random fires. They were too precise and similar for it to be caused by accident, all and all, without the F.P’s report we couldn’t know for sure. The behavioral aspect pointed on the direction that there was in fact an unsub to catch, but we weren’t firemen or specialists in the area.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Prentiss expressed along with a sigh. “That’s why we need to find something to prove it. We need to shift our focus to arsonists, elaborate a compelling profile, fast. If this guy dared to strike back to back, then we need to assume that he will also do it tonight. Let’s move, everybody.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of my teammates went back to their rooms in order to get ready for the day, all except for JJ, who I realized had been staring at me during the whole meeting. The same smirk had lingered on her face all along. She knitted her brows together before talking:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, but I just can't shake it off.” She apologized in advance. “Did I see you leaving Reid’s room earlier?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I froze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt like a bucket of cold water was being dropped all over my naked body while being in the middle of Antarctica.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No way. Na-ha. JJ was not going to be the first one to know about our relationship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I slapped myself multiple times trying to get my brain out of its stupefaction so I could answer something without letting more time go by. The longer it took me to answer, the more I was acknowledging JJ.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again Viv, your amazing acting skills will save the day. Not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bobbed her head and bit her lip, trying to contain a wider smile from forming on her already entertained visage. She flawlessly managed to transition into a more serious note and baffled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I just got a bit mixed. Your doors are next to each other and honestly, I am not even fully awake right now.” JJ giggled softly at the end. I agreed with her. She then turned away, heading to her own room. She stopped in the middle of the hallway. “Sorry if it made you uncomfortable that I perhaps suggested something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No biggie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I let the most colossal exhalation leave my lungs once I got myself inside my bedroom. I recognized that lying to myself was dangerous and could lead to pretty shady things to happen in my own psyche. Nevertheless I rather deceived myself into believing that JJ was convinced that I was not in Spencer’s room, than to actually deal with it for the time being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe later, when things weren’t messy in my head like they were then, I could have a heart to heart with JJ. I considered that it was necessary, there were a lot of things that required closure and foremost, understanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took a short shower and put on my outfit for the day. Kept it as fresh as I could in contemplation of the hot weather that awaited us. After 25 minutes I was ready to get to work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rossi and I met at the parking lot; he was wearing lighter clothes than yesterday. He had learnt his lesson. We hopped in the SUV and made a technical stop at a coffee shop so we could get the mandatory caffeine level in our bloodstreams to actually become human beings and not sleep-deprived monsters. We figured no one had to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whenever I got partnered with Rossi, I got spoiled by him. I attributed this to my age being close to his daughter’s. There was a chance Rossi saw her in me in some way, and since Joy was living on the other side of the country, his unconscious pushed him to make up for it on a surrogate he had near his reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Don’t profile Rossi, Viv. That’s not right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think Krystall would fancy my skin tanned.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rossi talked right after he obliged to deploy the sun visor on his side, as a consequence of the burning dawn sun that hit his face without warning after he turned to a certain street. I also pulled the one on my side, and squinted before adjusting my sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes. I bet she will.” I consented with a mischief undertone. “I, on the other hand, am not tanning, I am recovering my natural color.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly I was starting to worry about your lack of vivaciousness back at D.C.” He bantered. “Boy oh boy, who would’ve known what the girl lacked was the beach?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like you have no idea. Nearly 10 years living in D.C. and I still despise winter weather.” My tongue peeked as I grimaced in repulse. “This was my first entire winter in Washington.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took advantage of the red light to glance my way for a couple of seconds analyzing my face to decide if I was telling the truth or not. He ultimately assented and focused his attention back on the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Forensic Psychologists Division has way more vacations than the BAU.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Rossi said as if it was no-brainer. “Though I can never picture you working in that department, Vivian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” I queried curiously. “How come?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you are all antsy and restless on the field. Everything tickles you to move and dig deeper. You like to get involved, enjoy people’s company and social interaction.” He explained, sharing a petit piece of his profile on me. “It is hard for me to imagine you sitting down on a desk alone while reading and analyzing reports in order to make statistics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not wrong, you know? It was decent the short time Tara was my boss, she tried to get me involved in more complex tasks and tried to train me so I could do what she does one day.” I fidgeted on my seat and tilted my head to the side. “But when she left, it was like my new boss strived to give me the dullest assignments ever. It was tough, boring, discouraging and I felt impotent whenever I read files or reports of cold-cases.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You thought you could help but it was too late.” Rossi complemented my statement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly. I like to think that me being uncomfortable there was what made me push harder to look for alternatives. Hence, me actually daring to apply for this job after Tara told me about it.” I glanced at him and simpered. “I like to think that everything happens for a reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It sure does, kiddo, it sure does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We stayed silent for the following seconds. Letting the surprising profoundness of our little 6am chat sink in. I took a sip of my iced coffee and yawned again. I shook my shoulders trying to invigorate myself and sharpen my mind before we arrived at the latest crime scene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a way, it was daunting to be roaming the streets of the town I grew up in order to get to a crime scene. I had to stop me from predisposing myself with the idea that the possible next victim was someone I knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have an ID, yet?” I asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As far as I know, we only know who this person is because of their domicile.” Rossi responded. “But not DNA match to confirm it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded and shifted my attention to the street we had recently entered. It was familiar. But not enough for me to immediately recognize it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was until Rossi parked the SUV in front of the house where a firefighter’s truck was standing that my brain made the connection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know who lives here.” I spitted, little by little the memories flooded my head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I affirmed my partner’s inquiry with a simple ‘a-ha’ and he continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can step back if you’d like. I can do this myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine.” I objected as soon as he suggested that I should not go in with him. I hopped out of the SUV and waited for him to join me at the entrance. “We weren’t close. Mrs. Reynolds was my friend Francis’ nanny for most part of his life. I remember coming here twice or maybe three times to eat apple pie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rossi studied me as I talked, making sure that I was in fact telling the truth and that it wouldn’t be a problem to actually go inside and take a look at probably one of the most gruesome crime scenes we had ever had to deal with. He finally succumbed and let me walk first inside the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After dodging the yellow tape the responding officers had set, we collocated ourselves with latex gloves that would allow us to fiddle at the crime scene once we got there. As we went deeper in the building, the heat turned more hellish like. There were a couple of firemen in the house, walking in and out from the T.V.’s room where I inferred was the body. Or the remains of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry folks, this is the Fire Department’s jurisdiction.” One of the younger firemen stopped us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re SSA Rossi and Contreras with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI.” Rossi stated taking his credentials out just as I did too. “I’m afraid, son, that we can’t afford to keep waiting for your report and assessment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was fire, it is the fire department’s business. We don’t care about what Chief Anguiano has to say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> I had no idea who that boy was but I was ready to throw my first punch ever straight to his already crooked cocky nose. Rossi seemed exasperated as well, his muscles were tense, his jaw was clenched, yet his semblance remained calmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually Bobby, we do care.” Another male voice spoke, standing behind the first fireman. “I am sorry for my colleague’s attitude, we’re not used to dealing with feds. I am Lieutenant Rodney Peters, I am in charge here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No </span>
  <em>
    <span>flicking</span>
  </em>
  <span> way. Rodney Peters. I never thought I would see Rodney Peters ever after high school. Less would’ve I imagined he would turn out to become a firefighter. Not to be rude or anything, but I actually never thought he had a compelling future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was the vivid incarnation of the textbook meaning of an old, smelly, high school bully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not to toot my own horn, but I had to stand up for many kids since elementary school up to high school because Rodney Peters would fixate on making their lives as miserable as if he could just to feel better about his mediocre self. As a teen, he too became one of the most notorious players at school, he used girls as if they were disposable, including my dear friend Addison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was in no mood to deal with Rodney Peters. Less when he had that arrogant smirk on his face and a commanding position in the investigation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m David Rossi, this is…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vivian Contreras, I know.” Rodney interrupted my colleague as his eyes scanned my body from head to toe, caring less than a pinch that it was not being discrete. “We are old friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little pretentious, don’t you think, Rodney?” I sizzled back. “We are going to take a look around, if you don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind. At. All.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rossi nodded, letting me know that he was going to look around the house to find any possible lead that could point loud and clear that the fires were in fact arsons. Meanwhile, I allowed myself to analyze the actual spot where the fire took place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had seen the pictures before, but as usual, it didn’t compare to reality. From the very delimited area where the flames touched, where they didn’t, the almost intact sofa, the pile of cinder laying where once there was supposed to be a body, the smell of burnt meat, to the sole foot remaining, it was straight out of a horror movie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A foot again.” I pointed out, more to keep track of my thoughts than anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, ain’t it crazy?” Rodney added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The biggest inhalation and exhalation process to maintain my serenity took place as I squatted in front of my friend’s nanny’s ashes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you tell what caused the fire?” I questioned, hoping he could have a straight answer to the biggest interrogate of the entire case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can tell you what didn’t cause it; there are no signs of any combustibles, no electrical damage nor faulty materials.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So all you can add is basically nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s fat. Lots of it.” He continued and squatted alongside me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it animal fat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re running it now, but I don’t believe it is animal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about the others?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t look upon them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My jaw dropped a few centimeters genuinely aghast from the lack of tact the investigation was being handled by the Fire Department. I stood up, pressed my hands together and placed them near my chest almost in a praying fashion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” I demanded to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We classified them as accidents.” Rodney stood up again and shrugged his shoulders. “Honestly, this is too weird. That’s why we couldn’t give an assessment to your people, no report is better than a bottomless one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rodney, this isn’t a game. People are dying.” My voice indicated my increasingly growing exasperation. “Isn’t there any part of your minuscule squirrel brain that tells you that these past four fires are just a little too similar for them to be random?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feisty, just as I remembered.” He said, and bite his lip for a brief second before continuing. “But you’re right. We mishandled the first three, I promise than going forward, we will take another approach to try understanding this. You’ll get my full report in an hour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so you are basically telling me that you are ready to do your job.” I lifted my chin daringly and pursed my lips. He was getting under my skin real fast. “Maybe if you had proceeded with the correct way to look into these arsons, Mrs. Reynolds would still be alive. Let that sink in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not wanting to spend another second near Rodney Peters, I turned around and left the room ready to get the </span>
  <em>
    <span>deck</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of there, I was only getting angrier and more dumbfounded. There wasn’t much a simple psychologist could do in a fire scene. I had seen enough. It had been eerily similar to the pictures and nothing else in the room seemed disturbed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The complete image felt oddly familiar; by then I wasn’t sure if it was because I had been in the house before many years prior, or due to something else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I searched for Rossi as I wished he had a better experience with the Fire Department than mine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because! How can you know for sure that Mrs. Reynolds was alone last night? We need to check these bottles for DNA.” My partner screamed as he held two glasses half empty of liquor in his hands. “Listen, if there is no sign of forced entry and this fire is not an accident,  means someone had to set it, someone Mrs. Reynolds had to invite in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know man…” Bobby began to object.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t know man</span>
  </em>
  <span>’-me, I am not suggesting, I am ordering.” Rossi snapped like I had never seen him before. I couldn’t blame him, I had done almost the same with Rodney. “Look, kid, if there is an unsub…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unknown Subject.” I explained from the corner of the door, my arms crossed over my chest as I watched the whole scene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bobby turned to me, his brows up in a mocking gesture along with some snickering. I forced myself not to say anything in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If there’s an unsub to catch, one of these glasses may contain their DNA, maybe we could get a match. Or simply confirm that there was someone else involved, at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young man finally agreed with Rossi and leaned to grab said bottles, my teammate pulling them out of his reach. This time, it was him who had a smug smile across his visage, not Bobby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Na-ah. I’ll take them myself. Your delicate prissy fingers will break carrying these. Would hate for you to get overwhelmed with such great responsibility.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The younger guy was about to prim but never got to express his discord, considering that Rossi and I left rapidly afterwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On our way out the house, Rossi handed one of the police officers the glasses so they could drop it at forensics to get them processed. At least we knew for certain that the Police Department could handle things better than the Fire Department.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We hopped into the SUV, ready to go back to the station. Hopefully with enough information to work the case in a different angle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you believe what just happened?” I baffled, obviously annoyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will go on a limb and say that Naples F.D. doesn’t get many cases like this one.” Rossi tried justifying the unprofessional behavior of the men at the scene. I glanced at him expressing impeachment. “I’m just trying to make your people look a little better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t. Trust me. Rodney Peters doesn’t deserve your generosity.” I chugged, placing my hands over my temples massaging them softly. “There’s no excuse for their inefficiency.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agreed. Let’s hope they deliver in time to properly continue with our investigation without there not being any other casualties.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. 35: Epiphanies Happen In Strange Places</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Please, please tell us you got something out from the Fire Department.” Prentiss’ voice greeted us the second Rossi and I stepped in the conference room our team settled in Naples P.D.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rossi and I exchanged glances momentarily as we tried to synchronize on what exactly we were going to tell Prentiss about the whole F.P. situation we had at the crime scene. We didn’t have </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but we didn’t have </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> either. If that made sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We must have looked completely abashed, because our boss closed her eyes slowly lamenting herself before we could even explain ourselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We may have lighted a fire under Lieutenant Peters’ ass. No pun intended.” Rossi spoke as he walked towards the investigation board.  “He told Vivian we would get a full report in an hour or so. I also sent some glasses with liquor to forensics, maybe there’s DNA there that can confirm someone else was in the house with her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I heard Rossi talking but my attention was placed on the foam containers over the center table, a delicious smell coming out of them. My tummy growled complaining about the hunger I felt all of a sudden. It was more psychological than physiological, my senses tricked me into believing that I wanted to eat when in reality, I was ok.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are these…?” I began to ask gesturing towards the containers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we ordered breakfast.” Tara interrupted before I could finish. “Dig in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve already eaten.” Prentiss added, attentive to my every move. I sat down in one of the available chairs and opened one of the containers; a tropical fruit salad and a breakfast burrito were inside. “What else did you get from the scene, Viv, Dave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhm…” my throat made a noise while I munched into the burrito. Everyone was staring at me expectantly. When I was done chewing, I continued. “Rodney told me that basically, there weren’t any combustibles, nor electrical malfunction, the materials that made the furniture weren’t flammable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So basically, they got nothing. They made us wait an entire day to tell us they got nothing.”  Luke complained. “I am starting to get a bit frustrated here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not necessarily true.” Spencer hopped in, his frown was scrunched and his fingers fidgeted together. The gears of his brain were turning. “Knowing what didn’t cause them can lead to finding the right answer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what’s the right answer, Reid?” Luke questioned, his brows lifted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I –I don’t know yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As I chewed my burrito, I could feel the palpable tension in the room. This was not an easy case –not that other cases were easy, but this specific one, made a little less sense than others. We were all guessing, and the local authorities were not helping much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cough. Fire Department. Cough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was a ton of fat in the scene, though.” I mentioned. “Rodney said they were testing it, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t animal fat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we thinking human fat?” JJ’s face portrayed genuine disgust at the idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, it’s not that crazy that there’s fat at the crime scene. Bodies need a lot of time to incinerate, at least three hours at 3000 degrees.” Spencer spoke again. “There must be some type of fuel, and since we know that there aren’t any other combustibles in play, it is easy to assume that these people kept burning fueled by their own fat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As usual, I scanned the room in hopes to find similar reactions from my teammates as mine after hearing one of the most macabre things I had ever heard. Most of them seemed just as bothered and disconcerted as I was. It was nice to know that they still hadn’t seen it all and were as startled as I was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer was the only one who was unbothered, or at least came across as it. He probably noticed that his words were not as easy to digest for the rest of us as they were for him, because he opened his mouth to keep talking, most likely to say something that wouldn’t make him look like a total creep. I found it cute whenever he said weird, gruesome things and then apologized for it after realizing that in a social context not everyone could handle it like he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chief Anguiano entering the conference room stopped him from talking further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“DNA just came back.” He announced before opening the file on his hands to read the results. “First, ID is confirmed, today’s victim is Louise Reynolds, 64 years old, never married, no kids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call Garcia to check about her bank records and will.” Tara issued, taking her cell phone out of her pocket and standing up to leave the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you’re going to find anything similar from her bank records to the other victims.” I stopped her before she left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because Mrs. Reynolds was a nanny her whole life. Yes, she worked with pretty wealthy families, but not enough to put her in the same economic level as Candace, Margarita or Albert.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to agree with Vivian, here.” Rossi backed me up. “We’ve been to her house, it is pretty modest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should still check those records, just make sure we are not missing anything.” Prentiss motioned to Tara so she could carry on with her call to Penelope. “What else came from the DNA?” She addressed Chief Anguiano.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was a second person in the house.” He responded. “One of the glasses Agent Rossi recovered from Mrs. Reynolds house has male DNA, funny thing is that it appears to be that he didn’t consume it, he just held the glass at some point. The other glass had Mrs. Reynolds DNA all over, even in the liquid itself, she most likely drank it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This puts someone else on the crime scene.” JJ pointed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. But what does this mean for the investigation?” Chief Anguiano questioned. “Couldn’t it be that whomever this guy is had nothing to do with it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could be.” Prentiss answered right after. “But he also could have been involved in the fires in some way. We could’ve seen something that can help. Whatever the scenario is, we need to find this guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man nodded, though I could see in his face that he wasn’t completely on board with the idea. I could tell that also most of us weren’t fully convinced either, but if we were handling the fires as arsons, then we needed to take everything in consideration. An unknown man being in the crime scene was something we should no doubt, follow on. Chief Anguiano left the room leaving the rest of the team alone, all of us silent until Tara came back from talking to Penelope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vivian and Rossi were right, guys.” Tara announced as soon as she entered. She was carrying in her hands the picture of the most recent victim. She pasted in on the board along with a tag with her age and name. “Mrs. Reynolds' money is not even a tenth of the other victims. The little money she had goes to an addictions rehabilitation center here in Naples. She doesn’t fit in our victimology.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Addiction rehabilitation center?” Rossi asked, the latest found had sparked an idea. “What was she into?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alcohol, apparently. But she’s been sober about five years now according to Garcia. Why?” She questioned, her face expressed confusion, but little by little turned into realization. "The glasses. There was alcohol in them. She drank it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“According to the DNA that was found in them.” Luke explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about her bloodstream? Is there alcohol in there too?” Tara inquired again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The autopsy isn’t here yet. I don’t think it will take longer.” I responded. “But why would Mrs. Reynolds flush her sobriety on the toilet right now? There were several empty bottles in the house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe she was coerced into doing so.” Spencer suggested. “There were two people, we know the man didn’t drink but she did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But why?” I insisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t know…” He mumbled and sighed. “To knock her out and light her on fire?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to talk to Mrs. Reynolds’ neighbors, perhaps they saw something.” Prentiss ordered, interrupting our babbling to give more structure to the investigation. “Lewis, Rossi, you should go ahead with that. In the meantime, I want the rest of us to rethink our victimology and motive. Mrs. Reynolds wasn’t affluent like our other victims, so money isn’t likely to be driving this unsub like we originally thought. What is it, then? Why them? That’s what we need to understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We all agreed and got to work. Basically reading file after file over and over again until our brains got any idea of a reasonable explanation to what was going on and why. Yet nothing came to mind with ease. Rossi and Tara went out to perform some interviews on the neighbors in hopes of one of them to tell us something about the man at Mrs. Reynolds’ house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I finished my cold burrito after half an hour of lazily biting it. I was trying super hard to focus on the case, on the murders, but I simply couldn’t. Whenever I managed to think about something related to it and get the gears turning as a theory began to build up, a little voice in the back of my head whispered to me “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Your family is no longer a family</span>
  </em>
  <span>”. And threw me out of balance, to a downwards spiral of short flashes of the night before; me crying my eyes out, of sentiment of anger, of despair, of disappointment and an ultimate feel of emptiness and sadness at the conclusion that in fact, my family was no longer the family I was used to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I found myself more occupied trying to pick myself back up than actually doing something useful to the case. I had been fine all morning because I spent it talking with Rossi, at a crime scene, arguing with Rodney Peters and then deliberating with my teammates. I hadn’t been forced to be alone with my own head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My parents’ split was something I knew would have a great impact in my life. I thought I was handling it well, I was up, on the job, carrying on with my life. But the little moments of silence were the ones that got me, and that I presumed would always get me until I actually made peace with it. But now, it was time for me to be alone with my thoughts, no distraction available.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A folder was dropped on top of the one I was reading, making a loud thud that caused everyone to look my way. My first instinct was to grab said file and open it: “Louise Reynolds. Case #FNF3928, Naples, Florida. Fire Department.” I finally looked up to meet the person who dropped the folder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Full report.” Rodney Peters said, the same old cocky smirk planted on his otherwise attractive face. He had to be decent-looking to have such game with the girls in high school. “Just as I promised, I am a man of my word.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. You could’ve just sent it by email, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought it was a better idea to swing by, give it to you myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I narrowed my eyes unable to discern if he was trying to flirt with me or was just being his normal obnoxious self. Not a word came from the rest of the team who were observing the interaction with curiosity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” I answered before lowering my view to the file and began reading the long-awaited report. Rodney stood there behind me. I tried to ignore it and just keep reading, but his gaze was piercing my back. I felt myself getting more irritated by the second, which caused me to turn around to face him. “I am sorry, do you need anything else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I was kinda hoping you would do something for me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grab a drink with me tonight after work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” I objected not even a second after he stopped talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” He questioned, with genuine surprise in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How dared he? Asking me out in front of my team, making me look like the uptight villain when he knew exactly why I didn’t want to go out with him. I didn’t care how much time had gone by. He hadn’t changed, Rodney Peters was still a prepotent guy who thought that everyone owed him something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” I snapped back, shaking my head. “Thanks for the report.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever. Call me if you change your mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rodney even went ahead and left his card on the table before leaving. I sighed loudly and covered my face with my hands, groaning and protesting with myself. I had enough stuff going on my head for also having to deal with that </span>
  <em>
    <span>a-hole</span>
  </em>
  <span>. JJ leaned to take the card in her hands, read it and then left it back on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awkward.” She whispered. “Well, what does the report say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer noticed my malaise and took the report in his own hands so he could read it. It took him less than three minutes to finish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This basically says what we already know.” He cleared his throat and read: “‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>had eliminated the previously mentioned ignition agents, there is no apparent –known- origin to the fires</span>
  </em>
  <span>.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does that even mean?” Luke questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It means that they have no idea what caused the fire.” Prentiss responded. “What about the ignition point?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ignition point occurred somewhere on the sofa where Mrs. Reynolds was sitting. Strange.” Spencer went on, not deviating his sight from the file. “It also confirms the fat theory I provided earlier; once the body began to burn, its own fat fed the fire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Accidents or Deliberated?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“According to this, it can easily be both.” He answered me, his eyes met mine. I immediately detected how puzzled he was. “I truly can’t understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a first.” Rossi spoke as he entered the room, his hands on his pockets. Following him, was Tara. “If ‘genius boy’ here doesn’t understand, what repairs from us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was right. The case was one of the biggest mysteries probably the BAU had dealt with. Spencer was the smartest of us, the most educated and knowledgeable. He being clueless did leave a certain feeling of insecurity imprinted in all of us. I glanced at Spencer, he was feeling overwhelmed. His fingers rubbed against each other just as he always did to try to decrease his anxiety. There was not much I could do for him right there in front of everyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any luck with the neighbors?” I changed the subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The lady across the street mentioned a small car being parked on the side of the street from 8pm until 12pm that she fell asleep.” Tara informed us. “She couldn’t make out the color nor the tags because it was parked in a way that the streetlight couldn’t hit it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So he spent at least four hours in the house with her. What was he doing?” JJ tried to spark theorization. “Is there any way to know if something similar happened with the other three victims?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe, most Naples’ streets have cameras. Penny can pull the videos and check if a small car shows up at any given moment.” I suggested, while standing up, ready to call Penelope if Prentiss gave me the ‘go’, which she did. “Alright, I’ll call her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I walked outside the conference room and left the building through the emergency exit in order to get to the little adjacent open area where I hanged with Spencer the day before. It was pretty and more soothing than the dull interior of the station.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talk and you shall be listened to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello Penn.” I greeted her. “Can you check if the streets where our victims’ houses are have cameras?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will pretend that I am not offended while I furiously type…and yes,  two of them have. Want me to check out something specific?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we’re looking for a small car that may have driven by the houses the night of the fires.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Model? Color? License plate?” She inquired. I didn’t answer, letting her make her own conclusions. “That’s a nope.” I heard her sigh, and by the tone of voice she used afterwards, I was pretty sure her jaw was clenching. “Tall order my friend, that’s a tall order. But I’ll serve it. Just for you. I’ll call if or when I get something. Love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you Penny.” My answer was accompanied by a soft giggle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stood there taking a moment for myself. Letting the fresh ocean breeze hit my face as I inhaled and exhaled multiple times trying to pull myself together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I first learned that the case was going to be in Naples, a part of me got excited because of the chance of visiting home, but now it felt like it was the worst thing that could happen to me. I felt overwhelmed. There were too many emotions, too many people from my past, too many bits and pieces of my old self that just restrained me from doing my job and acting like me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It always felt like when I left Naples for college, I also left the old Vivian behind. I was a completely different person during my college years; more closed off, academic oriented, insecure to a certain level, still I longed to recover who I was in High School, the attention, the praising, the confidence, the partying…my friends, mostly my friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now, while working this case, I just wanted to disappear, to cut every single tie I had in that dumb town for goods and all. I didn’t want to be reminded about high school years, I got those pretty tattooed in my brain, no reminder needed. I didn’t want family issues to break my heart. I just wanted to do my job, wrap the case and go back home to my dog, to enjoy my friends and certainly, to enjoy my boyfriend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s when I realized I called Washington D.C. home instead of Naples.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had heard it from both my mom and Spencer, even Luke; I had my own life, my own kind of success. I needed to stop clutching the past and the people that were in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, my family was my everything. Was. The unity didn’t exist anymore. It ended. There was mom, dad, and me. Three individuals who loved each other, will always do. That’s it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My old friends, we still talked and it felt comforting whenever we did, like not a single minute went by since our teenage years. But they didn’t experience the same things I did anymore. I couldn’t share my most haunting thoughts, fears or new running jokes. I wasn’t in the same channel as them anymore. I was with my team. Luke, Penelope, Spencer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And lastly, I considered my high school years as the best years of my life because I used to be the center of attention. I didn’t like to have all eyes on me anymore. Sure I enjoyed compliments, but I was not thirsty to be loved by absolutely everyone like I once did. I just wanted the right people to love me, and honestly, I already felt that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly I didn’t want to be a 16 year old thriving Vivian again. Nor decadent college Vivian. I wanted to be maturing </span>
  <em>
    <span>present</span>
  </em>
  <span> Vivian, the mix of both.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took me ten years, a new job and new friends to finally begin to understand that I was not one or the other. That this place wasn’t home anymore. And that the past is just that, the past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I needed to let go. And walk forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I laughed making sense of the place I had, what probably was, the most important epiphany in my entire life. The side area of a police station.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But hey, I couldn’t control where epiphanes took place. They were unpredictable, unexpected and spontaneous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spontaneous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt like I was having a second epiphany in the day because a bulb light up in my brain with an idea of what might be happening in our case. I didn’t let another moment go by before I returned back inside of the building, almost jogging to get to the conference room with the rest of my team. I rushed to grab a marker from Spencer’s hand, he didn’t stop me but he wasn’t thrilled about me taking away his marker either. Three words I wrote on the white board that was at the cork board side.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Spontaneous Human Combustion.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. 36:  Spontaneous Human Combustion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“This is it.” I used the marker to point to what I just wrote with the messiest handwriting I had ever printed in my entire life. “That’s why it all looks so familiar to me, I just couldn’t put my finger on it until now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other six present members of my team looked at me with diverse reactions; confusion, shock, curiosity, amusement…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s so funny, Reid?” I inquired. “I don’t see you coming up with better ideas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe that was a little too harsh on him, considering that I knew more than everyone else how hard it was for him when he couldn’t deliver ‘appropriately’ to the team. But that mocking smirk on his face resembled to Rodney Peters’ and I was not taking more </span>
  <em>
    <span>duckcrab</span>
  </em>
  <span> from anyone that day. Not even from my boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spontaneous Human Combustion.” He answered. “More like the Wick Effect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Wick Effect is the boring alternative to Spontaneous Human Combustion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it is the most realistic and science-based.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry, am I the only one who isn’t understanding what’s going on?” Rossi talked after him, the rest of the team bobbed their heads in response. The old man looked at us and gestured with his hand. “Care to elaborate for us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Wick Effect…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spontaneous Human Combustion…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I narrowed my eyes when he talked at the same time as me. I was preparing myself to talk back to whatever dumb theory he had to explain, not caring if a faceoff with Dr. Spencer Reid had to happen. I motioned with my hand letting him know that he was going first. Very smart tactic, feed on his mistakes to explain my own theory better. Who’s the genius now? Huh?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Wick Effect is when the clothed human body acts like an ‘inside-out’ candle.” Spencer began to explain, he took the whiteboard marker from my hand and proceeded to illustrate. “The fuel source or ‘wax’ is the body fat that is inside. The wick is outside being the victim’s clothes. Hence there is a continuous supply of fuel in the form of melting fat seeping into the victim's clothing, like I have already established.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would explain why there are only feet left.” Tara pointed with amazement. “No clothes near the feet. No wick, no burning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But with the Wick Effect you need some sort of ignition, like a match or a cigarette to which there wasn’t any in our crime scenes.” I protested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe he used a lighter.” Spencer fired back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you explain the victims not trying to run away from being set on fire? It’s not like he tied them”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We wouldn’t know, there isn’t a body to look for ligature marks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, right now I truly dislike you, Reid.” I complained. “But I am not giving up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Contreras, enlighten us.” Luke added with a dorky laughter from his dumb little pun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spontaneous Human Combustion is exactly what it sounds like. The human body just suddenly catches fire from within. No apparent reason.” I spoke as once more, I stole the marker to make some notes at the whiteboard. “Our bodies are made up of 70% water but also we have methane gas and fat, like Dr. Reid already stated.” I pointed at him without looking him in the eyes. “But here’s the tricky part, there was a study published at New Scientist Magazine that explained that large amounts of acetone in our bodies, mixed with methane gas, fat and the slightest static electricity can lead to spontaneous human combustion. You may wonder, how does that happen? Are we all going to suddenly burst into flames? No, we are not. The levels of acetone we’re talking about are astronomical.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The victims did have quite an impressive amount of acetone in their bloodstream but not in their skins, that was what threw us off from thinking it was used as fuel.” Prentiss pointed out, I got a feeling that I was getting her on my side. “How would someone get to those levels?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Glad you ask.” I answered, failing to conceal the excitement in my voice. “Low carb diets, diabetes, obesity, and…drum roll please.” Luke was the only one who attempted doing it, which I appreciated. “Alcohol ingestion, like crazy amounts. It has to build up over the years but one fatal night of drinks may trigger it. Sounds familiar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Louise Reynolds was an alcoholic who suddenly broke her sobriety.” Rossi pointed. “One night and we saw at least four bottles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was also a lot of alcohol in Margarita’s bloodstream.” Prentiss supported.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I clapped and jumped thrilled that I was getting my point across. At least to a few of my teammates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about the ignition, how does that happen?” JJ questioned, her tone of voice revealed that she wasn’t buying what I was selling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After this fuel is contained inside of you, a simple spark can detonate everything. From a change in corporal temperature, to bacteria or as I said, static electricity, like walking in socks over a carpet, or even combing your hair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I was done exemplifying I took a seat on the table to use my tablet to google some images that would help my case. Once I got them I stood up again and held the device side by side to one of our crime scene pictures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a picture from a case that was labeled as SHC.” I wiggled the tablet so they knew what I was referencing. “Look, same thing; black ceiling, melted outlets. Everything else in the room is untouched. They don’t run away because they are burning from within, and the fire doesn’t spread because the fat keeps them burning until incinerated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do we know this is true?” Tara inquired, her eyes traveling from photo to photo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s been cases all over human history. As early as 1470, if I am remembering this correctly, there was this guy Polonus or something that caught on fire just because after a night of drinking with his buddies. Then in the XVIII century, a countess in Italy puff, turned to ashes in her room, only the legs remaining. But one of the most notorious cases is the one of Mary Reeser in 1951. Her skull remained intact but shrunk into the size of a teacup. This pic I am showing you is from her house. Decades of investigation have gone by and no one can find a compelling answer to what happened. Oh, also, guess what. This happened in Florida.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know so much about this, Vivian?” Prentiss expressed a little disturbance in her semblance, but disregarded it and continued talking. “I think Spontaneous Human Combustion could ironically explain why no one can explain exactly what happened in our fires. The only thing is that it makes it accidental.”  She shrugged and stood up to analyze the board by my side. “This is too consistent to be accidental.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if it’s not?” Luke intervened, he tilted his head as if he was trying to convince himself of talking. “I’m going to sound a bit crazy but hey, after the Wick Effect thing and Spontaneous Human Combustion, I don’t give a damn. What if someone is inducing this to happen? Intentionally causing an accident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is not too far fetched.” JJ talked. “We’ve seen those sorts of things happen, but like with vehicle collisions or, I don’t know, falls from the stairs. People that get off from ‘accidents’ happening. Ah, I got the name right in the tip of my tongue” She stopped for a second before her face lid up with knowledge. “Symphorophilia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, let’s focus on that.” Prentiss announced. “We need to know if Albert and Candace had drinking problems. The ashes couldn’t be tested for anything else than DNA.” She explained. “If they did, connecting this would be much easier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can talk to Jacob, Candace’s grandson in law, see if he knew anything.” Tara offered, our boss agreed to which she left the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We all nodded. As disturbing as it was, it was a thing. Sexual arousal from staging accidents. We were getting somewhere. We needed to focus on the murders being sexual-driven, not power-driven. I was delighted to be the one who helped build the foundation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll send you some pretty good articles about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That being said, I searched in my tablet for some of my favorite articles on the subject and shared them with my team. The team gathered to read the articles and get more educated on the subject before continuing with our profile and investigation. It appeared to be a waste of time to have down moments like that, but we considered them the opposite. Our job required far more knowledge than just behavioral queues and patterns, due to the complexity of the cases we were required to know about a vast diversity of topics. For that reason our team was so diverse in academic, ethnicity, age and overall backgrounds; we all got something to bring to the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s also why Spencer was without a doubt the most valuable member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He had not said a thing during my whole lecture about Spontaneous Human Combustion. I began to wonder if I had stepped over the line and made him feel bad or something like that. I took advantage of my colleague’s immersion in the articles I sent them to get closer to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spence…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got to be honest with you.” He whispered looking me in the eyes fixedly. “I am extremely turned on right now.” He gulped with such force his Adam’s apple trip was visible. “I can’t say I am a hundred percent with you regarding the Spontaneous Human Combustion, but the way you talked about it…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Awesome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but smirk. He had mentioned before that whenever I talked back to him when I disagreed with what he said, he found it ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>exciting</span>
  </em>
  <span>’, and now I had a better understanding on exactly what he meant. I was in desperate need of some alone time with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stepped back as soon as I heard my cell phone ring, fully aware that it would draw attention to us. The screen read ‘Penelope Garcia’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Viv</span>
  </em>
  <span>-idi babidi bu” She greeted me. “See what I did there?” Her voice sounded proud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was good Penn. That was good. Please grant me a wish and tell me you got something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Insert magic wand noises here please.” She joked before continuing with a more serious tone. “Got the same little gray 2013 Atos driving near Albert’s and Margarita’s house about five hours before the estimated time of the fires, and then again about half an hour later. I am sending you those vids now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My tablet rang letting me know that I had a new file. Spencer took it and checked said videos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll put you on speaker, please behave.” I warned my blonde friend on the other side of the line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garcia, were you able to get an ID based on the license plates?” Spencer asked her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I ran them, but they turned out to be bogus, not even stolen.” Penelope expressed with a bit of exaggeration. “I’m sorry, but this is the best I got. For now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep us posted.” He added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As a meme on your Facebook page.” She spoke again. “Bye-bye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer frown was scrunched and his head slightly to the left as he processed our friend and colleague's last phrase. I let a soft laughter out and padded his back comfortably, not wanting to explain beyond. He knew what memes were, I explained it to him. He also knew what Facebook was, even if he didn’t have one. Probably the context of it was the problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey guys, that was Penelope.” I announced as I joined them taking a seat at the table. “She found the same 2013 grey Atos driving by Margarita’s and Albert’s houses around five hours before the fires, and then half an hour later. It matches with the time frame Mrs. Reynolds’ neighbor provided.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“License plates?” Rossi asked soon after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were fake.” Spencer responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. That’s a bit suspicious if you ask me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We coincided with Rossi that it was too much of a coincidence for the same car to drive in the streets the victims’ houses were with almost the same timing on both days. Penelope couldn’t get a video from Candace’s home since there wasn’t a camera on that street that could help us, but it was easy to assume that if there was one, we would see the same Atos driving by as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The license plates not being real also made it look even more dubious. Why would someone drive around with fake tags if it wasn’t to do something fishy without being ID-ed?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer sat by my side. We all shared a moment of silence as we tried to figure out what was our next move. We had theories that sounded compelling but we needed more in order to build a profile that will eventually lead us to the perpetrator who caused the fires, or induced them. Whatever that was the case. It was moments like that when we all worked better on our own. Dealing with our own ideas before exteriorizing them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My head was cluttered and in a complete mess. There were a substantial amount of bits and pieces of clues scattered all over my brain. First of all, I needed to go over every piece of evidence we got.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We got four fires. The Fire Department could not give us a conclusive assessment and basically told us they had no idea what originated each fire. There was fat and a limited area of the rooms burnt. Two of the bodies were completely turned to ash to the point that even a DNA test was hard to perform. The other two had a piece of body intact, a foot each. The ones we could test, had high levels of alcohol and acetone in their bloodstreams, not in their skins. Mrs. Reynolds was a former alcoholic that gave up her sobriety on one fateful night. Apart from the four empty bottles of alcohol we found in her kitchen, one of the glasses in her home had DNA from an unknown man. The same Atos drove past two of the victims’ homes and according to an eye-witness, it also parked outside the house of our latest one for at least 5 hours in total.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was positive that these fires weren’t accidents. There had to be an unsub. No doubt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>JJ had suggested symphorophilia, someone tried to replicate the circumstances of an accident just as Spontaneous Human Combustion in order to get off sexually. It was a decent explanation because as far as we were concerned, SHC was not something you could easily provoke. It took time to build up the perfect candidate and conditions to burst into flames from within. But the timing didn’t make sense. At least not to me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess what?” Tara spoke entering the conference room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice made me snap out of my thinking for the first time in Lord knows how long. My immediate reaction was to take a look at the window; the sky was tinted with different shades of pink and orange pointing out that it was probably dawn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No matter how many times I had gone through the same, it still amazed me how immersed I could get in my own inner monologue while working a case. How fast time went by whenever we were building up profiles or simply theorizing. It was a long, slow process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up?” Luke questioned Tara. “What did Jacob say about his grandmother in law, Candace?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He said that ever since her daughter Camila passed away, she had picked up drinking again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean by ‘pick up drinking again’?” JJ glanced at Tara who was now making her way towards the board. “She had drinking problems in the past?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“According to Jacob. He said that it had been a recurrent issue since Candace’s husband passed but Camila and Luna helped her get better.” As she talked, Tara pointed at the other two faces in our board. “Mrs. Reynolds and Candace both have alcohol issues. We need to know about them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call Garcia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prentiss announced dialing our colleague’s number on the phone in the middle of the table, half a tone went by before Penelope’s uplifting voice reached our ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is your friendly neighbor tech analyst Penelope Garcia. What can I do for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garcia, is there anything that may point to whether Albert Wells or Margarita Estrada had recurring alcoholism?” Our boss inquired. Her eyes pierced on the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait a moment while I work my magic…” She responded, the classic sound of her digits hitting against the keys as she worked prevented the room from going into complete silence. “Oop. Here we go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you find Garcia?” Rossi invited her to share her newly discovered facts with the rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Albert spent six months at a rehabilitation center for alcoholism in Jacksonville back in 1992. From Margarita I don’t have anything consistent other than really high tabs at bars around 2011. But I can’t tell if she ever got help.” Penelope’s voice sounded a bit disappointed towards the end. “But hey, no, scratch that. I see a picture of her and a nice lady on Margarita’s Facebook account that reads: ‘Thank you for walking with me through these 12 steps’. Sending the files right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The multiple sounds of our electronic devices announced that we had received the information Penelope had sent us. I took my tablet and opened the files, Spencer and Tara joined me reading the information over my shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, so we got four elderly people who had drinking problems in the past but apparently overcame them.” Luke pointed out before a huge sigh left his mouth. “Both Margarita and Mrs. Reynolds had alcohol in their systems when they died, without the proper testing, we can assume that Albert and Candace did too. We got ourselves a pattern.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is funny because while I was reading some of the articles on SHC I read that most people who fall victim to this phenomena are elders with drinking and smoking problems.” JJ gasped. “I got to admit, I wasn’t sold on this theory but now, I might lean towards it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But how does this unsub choose them?” Prentiss spoke. She stood up and began to pace around the room. “The only one who made public her past alcoholism was Margarita. Who could access this kind of information about them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe a doctor or nurse?” Spencer suggested. “Garcia, could you please cross-reference our victims’ health or caregivers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course my horse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Horse?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer whispered with confusion which made us all crack a little laughter while in the middle of an otherwise tense moment. A few moments went by while Penelope typed and mumbled inaudible things to herself as she carried out the task Spencer gave her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t find anything. They don’t even go to hospitals or clinics. When they get sick, most of them have personal physicians and nurses, except from Mrs. Reynolds. However, none of them are the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe someone who works in the houses, like a gardener, or a cleaning lady…” Luke suggested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Na-ah.” Penelope answered right after. “Already checked those. They each have their own maintenance crew.” A moment of silence followed, only to be broken by her voice again. “But. And it’s a big one. I see some transactions for $300 to the same bank account, everyone a different day of the week but consistently for at least three months; Albert Mondays on, Candace Tuesdays, Margarita on Thursdays, and Mrs. Reynolds on Fridays. However there isn’t a concept stated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garcia, who does the receiving account belong to?” Prentiss demanded to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am running it but these bank policies are going to make it a little harder and longer to get. Sit tight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This had to be it. The $300 had to be some sort of fee for a service the four of all were getting. A service that was not probably orthodox if it wasn’t in their records. It was the only thing they had in common, the person who owned the bank account.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A short beep sounded, making the team and I search the space to find where it came from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s me.” Penelope announced. “You are not going to believe this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? You have the account owner?” Rossi questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet. But I set an algorithm in my computer to detect the gray Atos near the victims’ houses. And it goes by them on the same day the transactions take place; Mondays by Albert’s and Thursdays by Margarita’s. I also accessed a camera near Mrs. Reynolds’ house and the same Atos shows up every Friday.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our unsub is driving this Atos, he has to be the owner of the bank account.” I stated. I felt myself getting impatient and uneasy as we got closer to find out the identity of the perpetrator. “But why? I know we profiled symphorophilia, but something doesn’t add up for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vivian is right.” Tara interjected, I turned around to face her since she had been standing behind me all that time. “He’s known these people for nearly three months and out of the blue choses to light them all on fire in less than two weeks? If this is a paraphilia he couldn’t have held his urges for that long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s also the timing; he spent five hours before the fires but left around half an hour after they began to burn.” Spencer stated. “If he got sexual gratification from them, he would’ve spent more time after the fires to satisfy himself while observing, symphorophilia is all about the rush and adrenaline pump of putting your life and others at risk. Of watching it happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He could’ve been caught if he stayed longer.” JJ suggested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Highly doubt it. No one noticed the fires until the next morning. They were relatively small.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I rubbed my hands over my face as an overwhelming feeling of frustration got over me. At that point I wasn’t sure if it was solely because of the case or if there was an underlying issue still hanging about my personal life and every heavy sensation that going back home gave me. Probably a mix of both. I wanted to let go and was ready to do so, but they were things that take a bit of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The conference room muted as everyone in it simmered down and regrouped their own ideas. The why was always the most important query we require to solve, yet with this case, we had no ideas. My eyes scanned the room and my teammates’ faces on the process; everyone was concentrated yet a tint of apprehension accompanied it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I inherently started to feel that we were back at square one, as if the Universe or God himself sent her, Penelope spoke:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got him; the account holder is Keith Campbell, 23 years old. According to DMV records he drives a gray 2013 Atos, though the license plates on the videos don’t match with the ones registered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He could’ve changed them to avoid being ID-ed easily.” Luke excused. “What is his business with Albert, Margarita, Candace and Mrs. Reynolds?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Campbell apparently works as a, and I quote, ‘senior companion’.” Penelope answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve heard about those before.” Spencer interrupted. “When I was researching alternatives for my mom I came across these people; they are like rental friends for lonely elders. They aren’t psychologists nor physicians, they are regular people who get paid to hang out with senior citizens to give them a sense of companionship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow, that’s so sad.” Penelope sniveled. “How forgotten does one feels to go to that point to pay someone to spend time with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As sad as it sounds it makes some kind of sense.” JJ expressed with a semblance that communicated her despondency. “Albert was a widow, his sons live somewhere else. Candace was also a widow who lost both her daughter and granddaughter, Mrs. Reynolds never married nor had kids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Margarita was married.” Tara opposed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but it looks like Mr. Estrada has been in Miami for the past four months on business. And her son doesn’t live with her either.” Penelope explained with clear dismay in her voice. “These poor people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prentiss headed towards the board, she studied it once again. She shook her head, most likely due to the fact that we were lacking the most important piece of information.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Prentiss spoke inquisitively, she was giving us her back. “Why now? Why them? What does he get from this? Why does he stay for hours before the fires but doesn’t stay to watch them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we’re sticking with Spontaneous Human Combustion, then maybe he needs to make sure all of the correct elements are in place for it to happen.” I gave my best shot at finding some logic to it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The thing is that we don’t know for sure what are the correct elements to cause Spontaneous Human Combustion, or even if it exists. There isn’t any practical study to confirm it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer rested credibility to my argument. I knew it wasn’t personal but I couldn’t help but feel some tension whenever he did it. Those must be the kinds of problems we were going to face if we wanted to pull off our relationship. At least he found the friction between us ‘exciting’. I needed to make it work too, somehow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Reid, it is not like scientists are going to go around asking people to summit themselves on a test that will consist of consuming ridiculously high amounts of alcohol, a low carb diet and who knows what else with the goal being to see if they will randomly catch fire from within.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My voice was damped with sarcasm. It strangely caused a few of my teammates to chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait.” Rossi intervened. “What if our unsub is doing that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In that moment celestial horns ranged in my ears as everything began to come crystal clear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Preparing people to get into the right condition to see if they will spontaneously combust.” Luke elaborated. “He knew these people fit his profile of the perfect candidate, he gained their trust, induced them back into their bad habits. He chose one night, came into the house, asked to share a drink with them, and before they knew it, they were forced to chug liquor until passing. Then he managed to ignite them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garcia, does someone in Campbell’s family die in a fire that was suspected to be spontaneous human combustion?” Tara asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ahm.” We heard Penelope on the other line along the typical typing noises. “Nope, nothing like that. He was a great kid, great grades, and…a not so great thesis on Spontaneous Human Combustion that wasn’t accepted by his university board for lacking substantial results, like Dr. Reid said. I’m sending it right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ringing noise allowed us to know that we got mail. Spencer grabbed my tablet and opened up the document. His eyes began to skim the text as he tried to gather as much information as he could on the subject. I was aware that he was still on the defensive regarding it, but if he had to agree with it for the sake of the case, he would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That must’ve been the stressor.” Prentiss signaled. “When was this, Penelope?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three months ago, just before he began to work as a senior companion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, so how did he know these people would be such perfect candidates?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great question JJ, but appears that he didn’t.” Penelope snapped back. “When he began he had about 20 costumers but narrowed it down to five, four of them, our victims.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So he used his position to get them to open up about their problems, their lives.” I stated. “He got himself a subject pool. Then he built up the conditions he assumed would help prove his thesis’ hypothesis. He is trying to get practical results so his thesis can be admitted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guys! The deadline to submit the thesis is in two days, otherwise he will need to start over with a new one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s our trigger.” Prentiss talked again. “Garcia, who is the fifth customer Campbell kept? He is going after them, he needs to get his results ASAP.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Various whims and squeaks came from the phone as Penelope searched for the identity of our unsub’s potential last victim. Our boss was right. Keith Campbell had struck two days in a row because he was getting short in time, the chances of him finishing his little experiment tonight were huge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be Reuben Dodd. He is scheduled to meet with Keith. Address already sent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Let’s move people.” Prentiss spoke. “We need to get to Reuben before Campbell does, or else…”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. 37: The Search of the Sense of Belonging</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As I held from the SUV’s handle I found myself calmed. Not even Luke’s obnoxious driving disturbed me. The whole team was connected with earpieces, even if we were split between two vehicles, and Penelope was in Virginia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All Campbell wants is validation, we need to work with him from that angle.” Prentiss' voice resonated in my ears. “Contreras, Reid, I need you to do the talking. If someone is going to convince him that he is right, is you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked at Spencer through the rear-view mirror. He nodded at me, letting me know that it was fine. He had read Campbell’s entire thesis in a matter of minutes, and was re-reading on our way to Mr. Dodd’s house. He had the fortune of eidetic memory, thus every word his brain scanned got stuck. He could use Campbell’s own quotes to throw him out of balance and give him the sense of approval he wanted. I, on the other hand, was the Spontaneous Human Combustion enthusiast, I knew a thing or two and could relate to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was he studying, again?” Luke asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Biochemistry.” Spencer answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As we got closer to the location, my heart pounded faster. It was the adrenaline from making an arrest and subduing an unsub. It was not my personal favorite part of the process, but it was impossible not to get that feeling whenever the precarious moment came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s here.” JJ’s voice sounded. “I can see his car parked right behind that tree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The SUV I was riding with Luke and Spencer, parked at the main entrance of the house. It was one of the bigger ones in Naples. Reuben must have money. The other SUV, where Prentiss, JJ, Rossi and Tara were, took a turn on the block to park behind it and find a way in going unnoticed in case we couldn’t talk Campbell out to surrender and force would be needed. We had discussed the plan of arrest earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Luke parked, the three of us hoped out. I made sure one more time that the bulletproof vest was correctly attached before handing out my gun and walked in the yard to get to the main door. It was locked. Luke made us step back before he kicked it open in just one try. I had never done that before, and figured it was something really hard to achieve, yet my friend made it look quite easy. He signaled me to go in first, followed closely by Spencer and finally Luke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re in.” I announced to the other half of the team in the quietest voice possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The house was huge, it was more of an old concept. A big sized vestibule cut the house into different rooms, therefore different possible ways where we could go. All and all, its emptiness allowed us to hear the echo of what we assumed was Campbell’s voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go on, drink it all old man!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is coming from back there.” Luke pointed to one of the doors. “Let’s split.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not a big fan of that phrase and the consequences that normally followed it, but I did it anyways. It was the wisest thing to do. Multiple possible entrances to the same room could gain us territory and different angles to work with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The closer we got, the louder the voice was. The room appeared to be some sort of studio, from where I stood, I could see big shelves with books, a desk, and the back of who I assumed was Keith Campbell due to his height. I was not able to discern if there was someone else in the room with him, my vision range was limited. A few whimpers and pleads from another voice confirmed that in fact, there was someone else inside, most likely Reuben Dodd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It appeared that there was not another door. Luke must have come to the same conclusion because he joined us shortly afterwards. We looked at each other’s faces one more time before nodding in reassurance. We proceeded to enter the studio with a slow yet firm pace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keith Campbell.” I called his name trying to get his attention. “FBI”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My voice made him turn around instantaneously. It was then that I noticed that he had a gun. He must have been using it to coerce his victims to drink without the need of ligatures. Campbell’s position change also revealed that Reuben was sitting on a big sofa, crying and holding a bottle of liquor. When he realized who we were, he grabbed Reuben by the neck with his forearm pressing him against the backrest from the sofa, his gun now pointed to the old man’s temple. Reuben dropped the crystal bottle, it smashed onto the carpet spilling its content all over. Campbell’s face was the one of a man that was taken over the edge; desperation, frustration and anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to do this.” He shouted, his piercing eyes placed on us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true, Keith.” Spencer answered him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do! They want proof, I’ll give them proof.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am Dr. Spencer Reid, I got PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering. I read your thesis. I believe you have delivered tangible and successful results with the four subjects you already have. You don’t need to do this again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They don’t believe me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe you. Spontaneous Human Combustion is real. It happens, you cracked the formula.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Campbell cried after Spencer spoke. Yet he didn’t seem like it was surrendering any time soon. In fact he was more agitated than when we began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want for it to come to this, but they made me. You wouldn’t understand!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept saying ‘they’ which made me think that the kind of validation he was seeking was from a specific person, or group. Spencer had the academic career to be considered an authority or eminence in his area of study, yet Campbell dismissed his validation as if it meant nothing. He wanted his university board to accept his ideas, not a random guy he just met.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We originally thought that working him through that angle, using Spencer’s PhDs to finally give him what he wanted: approval from the science community was the way to go. But now, my gut told me to take another road, or this whole thing was going to end up in a bigger tragedy than what it was already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand.” I spoke, he viewed me with incredulity. I was no one to give him exactly what he craved. Nonetheless, I had something that could help, something I knew I was good at; empathy. “You presented this brilliant thesis to the people you admire the most and they dismissed it. They called you crazy…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something overcame me and I began to slowly walk towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t take another step with that thing or I’ll shoot Mr. Dodd.” He pointed at my gun using his chin. I obliged and left it on a small coffee table near, then placed my hands around the height of my chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s not worst of a feeling than when the people you look up to treat you like you don’t know a thing,” I continued with both my talking and walking “like if you are weak or stupid for believing in something they don’t…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are they still pointing their guns?!” Campbell interrupted me. I glanced at Spencer and Luke, both of them had no intention of lowering their weapons at any given moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They can’t put them away if you have a gun to Mr. Dodd’s head.” I explained, my eyes momentarily met Reuben’s, they reflected the rawest terror possible. I forced myself to look back at Campbell maintaining a straight face. “Don’t look at them, look at me. You are knowledgeable and creative, but most importantly you managed to combine those traits and come up with things that are out of the box.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Campbell was staring at me now, his face was still tense but there wasn’t anger in it anymore. Tears rolling over his cheeks, his hands were shaking as he struggled to keep it together. I was only a few steps away from him, I had to think fast before getting there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes people lack the capability to be as open-minded as we are to accept things that don’t fit into what they consider normal or within the realm of possibility. It sucks more when the ones rejecting your ideas are the only people you actually care for their opinions. I get that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It happens to me every single day at work</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My voice was soft, relaxed, I was trying my hardest to keep that way, so he wouldn’t feel like he was being cornered. He was watching me as he sobbed. His demeanor was calmer, even the grip on Reuben seemed less tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That makes us do some crazy stuff doesn’t it?” I continued. Campbell nodded urgently agreeing with me. Every second, I was nearer to him. “It shouldn’t be like that. Believing in ourselves should be enough, because when we’re right…” My left hand brushed his arm, his eyes were fixed on mine. “Eventually everything…” My right hand pressed the gun, pulling it away from Reuben’s temple. “Falls into place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just like that, Campbell himself let go from the gun, making it fall into my hand. His other arm, the one that was subduing the old man, also weakened setting Reuben free. Campbell raised his hands in the air as he wept. He was just a kid who wanted to belong into the science community, wanted to prove that he was right, his value to the university board, because they were probably his biggest inspiration. His arduous desire to be taken seriously lead him to murder four people my lighting them on fire to the point only ashes remained. I could read all over his face how sorry he was and how hurt he felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I could even realize it, my other two teammates were by my side. Luke placed the cuffs in Campbell’s hands at the same time he left the young guy that he was obviously under arrest and about his rights, he then proceeded to escort him out of the house. As they left, JJ and Tara joined us alongside a forensics team and Naples PD officers in order to secure the scene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the forensics opened an evidence bag so I could place the gun Campbell was using inside. Shortly after I retrieved my own gun from the coffee table where I originally left it and placed it back in my hip holster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer kneeled by Reuben’s side, the old man fell and gained consciousness over and over again. I thought it was due to a combination of shock, stress and the crazy amount of alcohol Campbell probably made him drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need medics.” He stated. “How much alcohol have you ingested, Mr. Dodd?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A unit is on their way.” Prentiss' voice sounded on the ear piece.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man didn’t answer as he was probably more out of himself than nothing else. I searched the room for bottles or some other indicator of how much he had already drank but nothing popped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The bottles we found at Mrs. Reynolds’ house were in the kitchen, maybe…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go check.” JJ interrupted me before I could finish and left the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two minutes later, a paramedics unit stormed the building and immediately took Reuben with them in order to get him to a hospital for proper care, JJ had been able to find two already empty bottles that were in the kitchen and told the paramedics about it before they left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of a sudden the house felt stuffy and hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was not much we could do inside the house anymore so I decided to go out. As I expected the ocean breeze greeted me as my face rejoiced itself with freshness. The patrol car that was driving Campbell to the station was still there, parked. The guy sat in the back seat still sobbing. I felt for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My cellphone’s ringtone threw me out of my head. It was a video call from Addison. I took off the hearing piece from my ear, letting it hang from the curly cable. I hardly got video calls from Addison, or from any of my high school friends for that matter, so I felt like it was imperative for me to answer. I walked a few meters away from all the chaos that was going on right at the house’s yard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, is this a good moment?” I heard her say as soon as I accepted the call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She seemed to be in a place with low lighting, her hair was up in a messy bun, and she was using pjs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A police car drove behind me with its sirens on, possibly being the car with Keith Campbell in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that a FBI bullet proof vest?” She interrupted me before I could answer. “Are you busy? Are you doing an arrest? Did I interrupted like a super important moment?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I laughed at her ongoing questions and her semblance of preoccupation. “No Addie. We just arrested someone, but everything is done now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, Viv, are you home?” Addison asked, dismissing my previous answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, how’d you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The street tag, that’s where Jeremy Wright lived, remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned around and squinted before noticing the pole with the street name. It was indeed Jeremy Wright’s street. He was not a close friend of ours, but he was one of the popular kids who would throw massive parties almost every Saturday because his parents were never home. We spent a lot of time in his house getting drunk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How ironic was it all. Ten years ago I would’ve been getting as hammered as I could. Tonight I had talked a murderer out of killing his last victim. Same street, same day of the week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” I responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, don’t worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My friend tilted her head analyzing me, she then sighed trying to let it go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What time is it where you are?” I questioned with genuine curiosity, as I noticed that Addison had been whispering the whole conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About 3am” she answered “But I just couldn’t sleep, so I dragged out the wedding stuff and got myself busy with my seating arrangement.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I chuckled making sense of what was happening. My friend was up in the middle of the night picking where everyone at her wedding was seating while her fiancé probably slept a few meters away from her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need me to help you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Addison had asked me to be her maid of honor when she got engaged, and I accepted. The problem was that I couldn’t do </span>
  <em>
    <span>maid of honory</span>
  </em>
  <span> things because; one, I lacked time and two, we were a whole Atlantic ocean apart from each other. Addison said she didn’t mind that I couldn’t help her with all the traditional things a maid of honor had to do, as long as I could arrive in Milan a week before the wedding to help her with last minute details. It seemed fair and doable considering my job at the BAU. Prentiss had already signed my permission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really.” She shook her head mildly. “At least not for now. I am just doing the easy tables like our friends’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, so, what’s the deal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Francis is bringing his wife and kids, Henry is bringing Leonie, Polly will come with Alex, but I don’t know about Oscar and you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Oscar and I?” I asked with confusion in my voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you need a plus one? You know, to save a seat by your side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You called me at 3am to ask if I am bringing someone to your wedding, Addison?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well there’s only one spot left on the table, it can either go to your plus one or to Oscar’s plus one.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I thought I was being a good friend by asking you first before asking Oscar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had never thought about it before. Bringing a plus one to my best friend’s wedding in Milan. I assumed that I was going to go alone because I didn’t have anyone I would’ve liked to attend with, but now, there was </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I found myself looking for Spencer in the crowded front yard of our latest arrest. I pinpointed him easily; he was the tallest one, still wearing his bulletproof vest and was talking with Prentiss and Rossi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But I couldn’t ask Spencer to go with me to a wedding in Milan. It was too much. Right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know Addie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have someone in mind, don’t you?” She jumped to say, louder than she anticipated, I could tell by the scowled that followed her excitement. “Who is it? Is it serious?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so…I mean, he is not the type of guy who you would only fool around with.” I explained. “He is deep, genuine, adult relationship material.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he hot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Addison, that is not the only thing that matters, you know?” I nagged her with a jokingly tone of voice, to which she laughed. “But yes, he is kind of hot. Maybe I can show him to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is a co-worker. Spicy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded and switched my frontal camera to the one in the back, and used it to locate Spencer and focus on him. I was against telling the team about our relationship, but not about telling my friends who had nothing to do with our job. It also felt natural to let her know, I always told her everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he is the guy that interrupted us when we were talking the day of your promotion thingy.” Addison recognized him. I decided it was enough thus I switched to my selfie camera so she could see me again. “He’s hot. I approve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. If you hadn’t I would’ve dumped him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I will save you the plus one.” She continued. “The wedding is in June, you have almost four months to decide if you want to take him or not. And if he doesn’t want to go, you can always hitch a handsome Italian guy at my bachelorette party and bring him to the wedding, so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, fine. I’ll think about it.” I said with a sheepish smile on my face. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. I am going to let you do your thing. Take care, I love you, Viv.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you too, Addie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I let out a big old exhalation after ending the video call with my friend. I realized that my muscles were relaxing from the permanent state of tension they got whenever we worked on a field case. Within the possible, it had been a good outcome. I just hoped that medics could stabilize Reuben Dodd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke jogged from the entrance of the house to where I was standing. He passed his arm over my shoulders and pulled me close to his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, the team is heading back to the station to finish some paperwork and wrap up the case so we can leave first thing tomorrow morning.” He announced, a smirk formed in his face. “Wanna ride with me or with Rossi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t appreciate my life enough so I choose you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome.” He answered soon after. “Hey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I laughed and kept walking towards the rest of the team. Their expressions were completely opposite to what they were about half an hour before. Little by little they turned from FBI agents to simple humans again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so did I.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. 38: Who’s your Plus One?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I decided to spend the night in my own room instead of Spencer’s. Not wanting to risk getting caught like it almost happened with JJ the night before. I also felt really tired both emotionally and physically to even consider doing anything else but sleep at least eight hours straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We had woken up at a relatively decent time of the morning to go to the station in order to go over some details we couldn’t address the night of the arrest, like the DNA results from the glass found at Mrs. Reynolds’ house compared to Keith Campbell. It took us less than two hours to properly wrap the case up and leave for the airport where the jet was waiting for us to get us home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was ready to get home, go back to my regular life with my regular routine. To begin with the process of leaving behind my past. As much as my mindset was prepared to move on, being in Naples made it harder to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t thank you enough for what your team has done here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem, Chief.” Prentiss answered as she shook Chief Anguiano’s hand. “We’re glad we could help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Certainly.” He responded. “Have a nice flight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gerry shook hands with almost every member of the BAU, except from Spencer, as a goodbye before they all proceeded to enter the jet. Gerry had been kind enough to escort us to the airport all the way from the station. I stared at him, some flashbacks hit my memory from just seeing his face. It was crazy to see people from my teenage years being full on grownups. My first instinct was to hug him, he did too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take care, Gerry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too, Vivian.” He answered before letting me go from his embrace. “Crazy how we both ended up in the same line of work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, right? I mean I always knew I was going to be in law enforcement one way or another, and that you were going to follow your father’s steps. But it is so much different to actually see it come true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know.” He chuckled and padded my back. “I’m going to let you go now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I am waiting for someone else.” I pointed to the car pulling over behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had called my mom before leaving the station at the very last minute to tell her that I was going home already. She said right away that she was going to try her best to get to the airport on time before we left. I didn't do it before because a piece of me didn’t want to see her, but then Spencer’s words resonated in my head: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>The imminent fact that I will lose her, made me wonder if staying so enraged towards my father is worth it. I would’ve lost both parents.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t want to lose my parents over them splitting. It wasn’t fair for me to lose the unity of my family but neither was fair for them to lose their daughter when they had lost each other as well. Nothing was fair about the entire situation and my childish behavior would only make things worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mom hoped out of the car and jogged towards where I was while holding a big bag. Gerry said hello to my mom before leaving us two alone. She hugged me tightly for a long time before separating a few centimeters in order to meet my eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you called. I really wanted to see you before you go away. God knows when you’ll be back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know mom. I am sorry it was so short notice.” I apologized with a blue smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ok, mi amor?” She asked, concerned, her big eyes studied my face trying to figure out what was in my mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will.” I answered. “I don’t think I can just overlook it, but I know I will be ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am so, so, deeply sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be, mom. We are all going to be fine. It has to be like that. A good thing for a bad thing, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” She answered, her hand softly brushed my cheek. “Be careful Vivian, I read on the paper what happened yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grimaced knowing that a lecture courtesy of my mom was coming my way. When I first told my parents that I wanted to be in law enforcement, first as a cop, she snapped and told me that I could do better than that. So I went ahead and became an FBI agent. I was fully aware that she did not mean that when she said I could do better but I did it anyways because it was what I wanted. My mom had been against me being in law enforcement because it would mean to put my life at risk constantly and she thought she couldn’t cope with it. My father, on the other hand, always supported the idea because he was able to look past the little girl, to a responsible woman. At the end of the day, both of them wanted to see me happy so they yielded to my desires.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to be careful too, mom.” I turned the cards on her. “There are creeps everywhere, and now that you live alone I need you to be extra careful. I don’t know, find a roommate, move to a busier neighborhood. Call me whenever something is off. I don’t want anything to happen to you. That would truly destroy me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will consider selling the house and get something smaller with neighbors.” She promised. “I’ll also buy pepper gas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds right. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I almost forgot.” Mom said alertly and gave me the big bag she had been carrying. “A little something for the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took a peek inside the bag, the smell of freshly cooked food filled my nose and my heart with joy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you mom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Viv, we need to take off.” Spencer’s voice interrupted me. His head was popping from the jet’s entrance. He smiled softly and waved. “Good morning Mrs. Contreras.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning Dr. Reid.” She answered with a wide, mischievous smile. “I am trusting you with my daughter, take care of her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer gulped hard and turned reddish from hearing that. It wasn’t anything specifically hinting to our relationship, I could’ve been something my mom randomly said to any of my teammates. The thing was that he knew that she knew, thus making the meaning of that simple statement a lot more touching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Mrs. Contreras, I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have a nice trip back home.” She waved goodbye at him before he reentered the jet, then she placed her eyes on me. “That guy is really into you, don’t mess things up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would you say that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“’Cause you are really picky, I don’t want you to suddenly find him a flaw. No one is perfect, Vivian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that.” I replied, a bit amused of the take my mom had on my love-life. “Trust me, if someone is near perfect to me, is him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mom’s eyes opened like two big drum-set plates and gasped. I then grasped that it was most likely the first time I ever said something like that to her about a man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh Jesus Superstar, feelings were catching, really fast and really hard. Spencer made it so easy for me to feel like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you gotta go.” She spoke with a sudden gloomy tone. “Use your belt on the jet, eat healthy, always wear a bulletproof vest, please, take care of yourself. I love you so much, mi niña.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her arms surrounded me one last time, it felt like she was transferring all of her love and well wishes to my body. I hid my face on her neck, trying to take in as much of her scent as possible. Mom was right, I had no idea of when I was going to see her again, and I wanted to remember every bit of her perfectly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, mom. I’ll send a text when we land.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded agreeing with her and went inside the jet, looking back one last time to wave at her like it happened in every existent cheesy movie. I fought my tears from showing up. I wasn’t sure exactly why but seeing mom made me super emotional. I made my way through the main hallway of the aircraft before choosing to sit by Spencer’s side in the two-table-two arrangement. I glanced at one of the windows at the perfect moment to see my mother’s car leave the takeoff track.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>About fifteen minutes went by before we were on the sky flying back to D.C. Finally. As Naples receded in the horizon, I felt a sense of relaxation I had been craving the last few days. It was the closure that I needed to move on properly. My body resented it and I began to get sleepy; it could’ve also been attributed to the AC being in the right temperature, the comfy seats, and the people I cared for surrounding me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is that delightful smell?” Luke’s voice woke me up before I could even properly shut my eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I noticed the bag of food my mom had given me, I had not put it away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” I talked before standing up to walk towards the kitchen area. “My mom packed me some food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, is there any horchata in there?” JJ turned from her seat to meet my face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shrugged my shoulders as I took a look inside the bag for the first time. There were various containers and a medium bottle with white heavy liquid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” I answered to which JJ chugged in disappointment. “But there is a bottle of concentrated syrup to make it. Want to make some?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” she immediately said, standing up. I gave her the bottle and walked towards the kitchen, she followed me. “What do I do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just pour a bit of it on a glass, add water ice and stir”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome, thanks, Viv.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded letting her know that it was nothing. I put the bag of food inside the mini-fridge and left JJ to make herself some horchata. I hadn’t realized how much she had liked it. It was a very sweet drink so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. I went back to my seat, planning to doze off for the following two hours or so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, we haven’t talked about how great Vivian handled yesterday’s arrest.” Tara spoke, she was sitting in the two places in front of me. Only a narrow wooden table separated us. “Pretty smart and quick thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes, I was going to bring that up.” Prentiss joined us. She had been taking one of the single seats on the back of the jet. “You did a good job, Contreras.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” I answered with a soft smile, not really wanting to talk about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I thought they were going to leave the matter alone, Tara talked again:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you mean what you said, though?” I frowned not really knowing what she was referring to. She continued. “You told Campbell about how it sucks when the people you look up to dismiss you. You also said that it happens to you, and I quote, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>every single day at work’</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh shooting stars. I had not made sense of what I said and who was listening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Campbell wasn’t reacting to Spencer’s approach of validation, the only thing I cared about was finding something I could relate with him about, something that would make it easier for me to genuinely empathize with him so he could trust me and surrender without major problems. I wasn’t thinking about who was listening or how it could affect others what I was saying. It was coming to me that I had admitted to a criminal something that I hadn’t been able to admit to anyone else, not even myself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you feel like we overlook your contributions?” Tara insisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now I had every member of the team staring at me, including JJ and her horchata cup, expectant for an answer. It took me a moment to order my thoughts and search inside myself so I could formulate a proper answer. I did not expect to be ambushed like that. Their gazes began to make me feel uncomfortable and uneasy, as if they were pressuring me to answer them the way they wanted me to do; saying that I just made it all up for the purposes of the case. But I couldn’t. I had to be honest, otherwise I couldn’t go on behaving normally. Lying to make someone feel better, for me, was way harder than experiencing the awkwardness of telling the truth. Case in point; when Spencer and I tried to keep everything normal after </span>
  <em>
    <span>the kiss</span>
  </em>
  <span>.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I lowered my face not wanting to see my teammates’ faces while I processed exactly what I was feeling when I said what I said to Keith Campbell. I am sure everything they got from me for about five minutes was a mix of ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Uhms</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ and ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ahms</span>
  </em>
  <span>’. When I finally felt ready to explain myself, the first person I glimpsed at was Spencer. Mainly because that involved him on a higher level than the rest. He had been the hardest on me when I first joined, I had to go the extra mile to prove myself to Spencer than to the rest of the team.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I first joined, I did. Constantly.” I confessed while I focused my attention on my other team members. “But I guess everyone gets that feeling when they are the new guys. In everything, not only here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prentiss chuckled and nodded before snapping her tongue in a chafing fashion. It was an indication that she could relate to what I was saying. Luke and Tara followed with subtle laughter and short answers like ‘yes’, ‘no doubt’. Everyone at the team had been the ‘newbie’, as Penelope said, but it seems that only a few of them vividly remember those days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, it still happens but not as often.” Without noticing, I was scratching my eyebrow out of nervousness for what I was going to say next. “There are moments when I am sitting at the table, working a case, and I look around the room and it hits me that I am sitting with you guys. I see you, each one of you and everything you have done, all the experience you have and my brain just goes into panic mode.” A soft skittish laughter complimented my statement. “All I can think about is ‘how did you get yourself into this situation, Vivian? What more can you say or do that they hadn’t think about before?’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My hands were over the wooden table in front of me, I had been pressing them against each other the whole team without me noticing it in the first place. Luke’s hand met mine and squeezed them tenderly trying to comfort me. I guessed no one expected me to feel that insecure about my skills at my job. They knew I was not very confident in other things like dating and my personal life, but I always presented myself as someone who was sure about what she was doing in her job. If something, my weakness at the job was that I got over emotional, not anything related to my capabilities to solve a case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is more about my mindset than about you guys.” I kept explaining. “You had never made me feel like my voice wasn’t being heard, nevertheless I still get those self-doubt moments. The way I was raised helps me to snap out if and tell myself: </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Vivian, you are here for a reason, if you didn’t belong, you wouldn’t be sitting with them in the first place.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Then I go on like nothing ever happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was true. My entire life my parents cheered me up and pushed me to do whatever I wanted. To believe in myself and my capabilities, not letting anyone tell me what I could do or not. They told me I was smart, responsible, hard-working, beautiful, kind and so much more. Whenever I was not particularly good at something they wouldn’t put me down or ask me to quit, au contraire, they would push me to do better. I grew up hearing my parents telling me that the best way to shut down a person who wanted to put me down was to prove to them with actions how wrong they were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But not everyone had the same support system I was lucky enough to have. It was not hard to imagine how difficult it could be for a person with self-esteem and confidence issues to spiral down whenever there is a bump on the road. If someone like me, who grew up being loved and accepted had those down moments, someone without the same bringing up, would naturally have major trouble dealing with it properly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All and all, it was necessary for me to find something in common with him and that, was the only thing I could come up with on the spot.” I chuckled in an effort to make the environment less serious and tense. “The thing is that someone like Keith Campbell isn’t able to do that, to bounce back and shake it off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“True.” Prentiss pointed out. “Well, I am glad to hear that. I was about to reconsider my entire way of handling the team.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We all cracked a laughter as the mood began to lighten. What I said was heavy in meaning and sentiment, I was aware of it. But they were the ones who asked and I complied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What you got there, JJ?” Rossi, who had been quietly listening to everything, seamlessly changed the subject and pointed to the blonde woman’s drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Horchata. Sorry I didn’t ask if anyone else wanted.” She grimaced after apologizing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can go make some if you’d like.” I offered as I stood up. “Who wants some?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was going to take whatever chance I got to get away from the epicenter of one of the most open confessions of my entire life. At least for a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the number of people who wanted horchata increased, I decided that I was going to need some help. I signaled Spencer to follow me to the kitchen area, which he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took a few glasses out, some ice and water to prepare some of my team’s newly found beloved drinks. It would have been easier to prepare it in a jug but there wasn’t one on the jet. Spencer had the special task to stir the liquids to combine them. He was awfully quiet, he had been ever since the arrest the night before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is everything ok?” I asked. He nodded without saying anything else. “Spencer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped his actions and glanced at me. Yeah. No doubt something was going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think I dismiss you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?! No!” I replied immediately afterwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It felt like when you said ‘you guys’ you meant more like ‘Spencer’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not going to lie, you were a doofus when I joined the team and it made me feel like I was too dumb to be a part of it.” I admitted. “But that was a misunderstanding, we’ve been through this before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer tightened his lips and stared at my face with narrowed eyes. He was analyzing me to see if I was telling the truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about stuff because I will not care about what you have to say. I do listen and I do care for what you have to say.” He talked rushing his words just as he did whenever he tried to explain himself. “In fact, talking to you has been one of the most enriching experiences of my entire life, Vivian. I hate the idea that you feel like we aren’t at the same level.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spencer, we aren’t at the same level.” I interjected, his face expressed confusion. “And I don’t want to be, honestly. You have an IQ of like a million or something…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“187”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I don’t even know my IQ, but I bet it is no way near that.” I joked and poked his stomach with my index finger trying to get him to relax. He still looked concerned and somehow sad. I cleared my throat and adjusted my volume into a whisper. “What I like about being with you, well, one of the things, is that I learn all the time. I don’t feel dismissed at all. Do you feel dismissed when you talk to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I feel like that?” He inquired with a soft tone of voice. “When we’re on a case we go back and forth the necessary to find answers, it isn’t personal. You always listen patiently and have never judged me when I express my emotions, no matter how scattered they are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same exact thing happens to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hazel eyes met mine, a soft smirk formed in his face realizing that I had manipulated him into expressing in his own words what I was trying to tell him all along. I poked his stomach again, this time sparked a soft chuckle in his end.  Man, how did I wish Luke hadn’t broken the curtain  to separate the kitchen area from the rest of the jet so I could just grab Spencer’s neck and push him down to kiss me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that we had tackled that minor hiccup, I had something else to talk to him about. During the few free times I had since the arrest the day before, I had toyed with the idea my friend Addison planted with her random call. I was not sure of how to approach it. It was a big deal to invite someone to a wedding across the globe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A part of me was telling me that it was too soon and too much since we had only been officially giving it a go for three months. The other part told me to screw it. We had known each other for nearly over a year, we had gone through our fair share of precarious moments together, we had cared for each other, and got intimate in many ways, both physical and emotional, that it felt dumb to avoid asking him to be my date at my friend’s wedding. Plus, the wedding was not until another four months, so by the time the date arrived, things luckily would be more stable among us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So…I wanted to ask you something.” I spoke without looking at him, I resumed with preparing the drinks while he stirred them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m listening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hypothetically</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if there was a wedding in Milan…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wisconsin, Washington, Tennessee, Pennsylvania, Ohio, New York, New Mexico, New Hampshire, Missouri, Minnesota, Michigan, Kansas, Indiana, Illinois, Georgia, Colombia, Iran, Mexico…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t know why I let him continue with his list of possible Milans, or even how it was possible for there to be so many in the first place, or how did he know about every single one of them apparently. I ceased what I was doing and turned around to face him, Spencer kept naming more countries until he realized he hadn’t hit the nail yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re talking Italy, right?” He asked, his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink when I confirmed his suspicion. “Should’ve known that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If there was a wedding in Milan, Italy in June, would you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hypothetically</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I emphasized the last word “like to go with me? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hypothetically</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was aware of the exaggerated use of the word ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>hypothetically’</span>
  </em>
  <span> but I felt the need to stress that it wasn’t a real thing, even if it was. I figured that Spencer wouldn’t feel as pressured to give me an answer if the idea was something relative instead of a fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer studied my face for a couple of seconds, there was a soft air of amusement in his visage along with tint complicity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If </span>
  <em>
    <span>hypothetically,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Prentiss allows us to miss work at the same time?” He tilted his head, pretending to weigh his options, his eyes squinting and his mouth pursed in order to dramatize his act. He finally nodded. “I’d love to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome.” I answered with a grin as wide as the ocean that separated us from Milan, Italy.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I giggled and continued to finish preparing the horchatas the rest of the team was expecting. I grabbed the first batch of glasses and began to walk back towards the rest of our teammates. I was not even two steps down the aisle when I heard Spencer’s voice, making me turn around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vivian, are we talking about Addison’s wedding?” He questioned with a subtle arrogant smirk. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hypothetically</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I bobbed my head agreeing. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but snicker and shook my head before turning around to keep walking away from him. He had known all the time it was a real thing. How couldn’t he? Spencer had listened to me talk about how big of a deal Addison’s wedding was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet, he had said yes. That was what mattered.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. 39: Please, Take Your Duckcrab Somewhere Else</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Are you drinking tonight, Vivian?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is someone else taking you home? You know drinking and driving don’t go together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes mom, Spencer is taking me home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he drinking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he’s not. He doesn’t drink regularly, just his casual socializing beer, but nothing else. Don’t worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shivered and hugged myself as a current of cold air hit me. I rubbed my legs against each other trying to create friction to maintain a healthy body temperature. I was wearing only a short black pencil skirt, with a sheer long-sleeved blouse on top of a bralette and the weather was still cold as it was February in D.C. I had stepped out of the bar only to answer my mom’s call, I figured it would only take me a minute or two at most so I omitted the outwear piece of my outfit to keep me cozy. Now, it had been around ten minutes listening to her talk. I loved her, but that was excessive, particularly on a special night like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I trust you, Vivian.” She said without a very convincing tone of voice. “Please be careful, I know it is your birthday, mi vida, but that doesn’t give you a free pass to do crazy shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, whatever. I just want you to be responsible.” She sighed on the other side of the line. “I suppose you want to go back to your friends now, so I’m going to leave you to it. Enjoy your night, mi amor, and happy birthday!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks mom, I love you, take care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, good night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hanged before I did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was my 28</span>
  <span>th</span>
  <span> birthday and I had spent it at the office, the only thing that comforted me was that in the night, the team and I were gathering at a karaoke bar to celebrate. I loved birthdays, not precisely about the getting older part, but because it was a day when I could behave as a queen or diva and no one could judge me for it. My birthday was all about me, and just as my team said, being the center of attention every now and then was not a foe of mine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned around to head back inside the bar when a female voice stopped me. I completed the circle to face the person who had called my name to meet JJ’s face. She was casually dressed and carrying a wrapped box in her hands. Also, a car parked behind her on the street, Will being the one driving it. It didn’t go away which made me infer that she was only there to drop the gift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy birthday, Viv.” She said with a warm smile before leaning in to hug me. “I love the tiara.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>JJ proceeded to point with her index finger the shiny, blingy, silver tiara that read ‘B-day Girl’ on my head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, nice isn’t it?” I positioned my hands under my chin and lifted my elbows in a princess-y fashion. “Penelope made me wear it. You know? It was a really nice idea. Apparently if you announce to a crowded bar that it is your birthday, people send you free drinks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, that’s cool.” JJ said with a soft yet somehow gloomy smile. “I just wanted to drop this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No! Come on JJ! You have somewhere else to be?” I questioned, to which she shook her head in denial. “Alright, then, please, stay! Everyone’s here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Spencer is here too if that’s what you’re asking, but he is in a good mood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>JJ knitted her brows together after I talked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curse you already ingested alcohol in my body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, why would you…?” She began to say. Her face changed completely adopting an expression of indignation and scorn as soon as her fast brain connected the dots. “He told you, didn’t he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, not able to meet her gaze. I was not even drunk enough to be completely unaware of how badly I messed up. I had to awake a bit more if I wanted to turn it around and fix it before it got too complicated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>JJ knew that Spencer told me about what happened in L.A.; she knew that I knew that she said that she ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>had always loved him’</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No offense Vivian, but why would he…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about it?” I interrupted her before she could end the question. JJ affirmed with her head. I shrugged my shoulders and sighed in an attempt to buy time to come up with a great excuse that didn’t involve the part where he confessed his feelings for me. “Because you dropped a bomb on him that obviously threw him off. He wanted to talk to someone unbiased, and well, I was the best available.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She studied my face like everyone on the team did whenever we had doubts about the other person telling the truth. JJ ultimately accepted my answer and relaxed her frown and her overall posture. She looked angry at first but now it was like some weight was lifted off her shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vivian, you need to know that what I said…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“JJ, I really don’t need to know anything, trust me.” Once again, I didn’t let her finish. “I am in no position to judge you or Spencer. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. What I care about is the team’s dynamic and how it has been affected because of what happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That bad has it been showing?” she questioned with a somber semblance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course it was obvious. Everyone had noticed the huge difference in the way JJ and Spencer addressed each other after the L.A. case and before. It was awkward. But no one dared to say a thing since they didn’t know exactly the motive for said turn of heart. The team would only intervene if the friction between the both of them got to a point where working together was impossible. JJ and Spencer knew that, therefore they kept it civilized when it came to professional matters, they wouldn’t risk Prentiss or Rossi making an intermission to either reprimand them or dig deep into finding exactly what went down in that jewelry shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am afraid so. I don’t like that you force yourself away from the team when we are socializing just because you don’t want to face Spencer.” I continued, not knowing where the bravery to confront her was coming from. “And yes, I know that Spencer can be a bit of an…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Asshole”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that.” I chuckled at my inability to say words like that. “He can be a big one whenever he sets his mind to it. But I also know that he is hurt in a way because he feels betrayed. Spence is a genius in mostly everything but is a doofus when it comes to his emotions. He will not stop until he feels like everything makes sense again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>JJ’s eyes began to water as my words sunk in. I felt bad for her, and I also felt bad for my boyfriend. Being the middleman was not one of my favorite positions but looking at two people I cared about hurting, wasn’t either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stand up to him, call him on his BS.” I stated with a louder volume. “I know the one who is failing here is Spencer, but he is too drilled to his ways that I am certain that if you don’t make the first move, neither will he.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never thought that stupid phrase was going to lead up to this…I genuinely thought that he was going to dismiss it soon after.” She sobbed. That was enough for me to hug her tightly. “I guess I underestimated how he felt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reid needs his best friend, JJ. And so do you. This isn’t worth losing a ten plus years of friendship. I have faith that you can talk things out.” I whispered to her ear, still hugging her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve tried, Viv.” She responded before separating from the embrace, her hands brushed off her tears. “He won’t listen, he just goes ‘mmm’, ‘aha’, ‘ok’, and ‘yes’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her Spencer impression was not the best but I couldn’t blame her, she was having a rough time. However it was enough for me to get the gist of the treatment Spencer was giving her. I had witnessed it myself whenever Spencer would completely overlook her presence when the team was just hanging out. They could talk to each other if it was work-related without any issue, but when it was something more personal or optional, he behaved completely douchey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t like that. I hated the idea of Spencer being that petty. I hated JJ feeling the need to seclude herself from the entire team just because he made her feel bad. And I had enough already. It was my turn to make a move on the matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no power whatsoever over Reid, but maybe I can talk him into giving it a chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lies, lies and more lies. I had some leverage over Spencer, it was not going to be pretty to use it, but I was willing to if it made things better between him and his best friend. After all, it was this woman who helped him through his worst moments, took care of his mom when he was in prison, and got his back all the time. Obviously I couldn’t give her any more details on my plan without revealing our relationship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d appreciate that, thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need to thank me.” I smiled softly and reassured her by bobbing my head. “Now, would you stay? Please. Everyone will enjoy your company, you deserve to have a good time. Rossi’s paying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, Viv…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I didn’t want to be this kind of person, but you leave me no choice.” I sighed dramatically. “Please, please, please. For me? It is my birthday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>JJ laughed and shook her head momentarily before giving in. She told Will that she was going to stay for a bit and that she would call him whenever she was ready to leave, to which Will agreed and left. I passed my arm around her as I used my free hand to clean the remains of her tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Viv, you are the only person who knows. I’d like to keep that way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I won’t say a word. Thank you for staying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We both entered the bar. The amount of people dancing, drinking and overall having a good time in a relatively small space made the venue feel hot in temperature. It was a relief after the long period of time I spent in the cold winter D.C. weather. JJ and I made our way to the table where the rest of the team was seating, hanging out, laughing and drinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look who I found” I announced as soon as I got near the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The team cheered when they saw the missing member arrive. Luke immediately stood up to give her his seat, and Penelope flew to the bar to get her a drink. Emily hugged her, so did Tara and Rossi kissed her cheek greeting her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What were you guys talking about?” I asked before taking my seat by Spencer’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About what we wanted to be as kids when we grew up.” Tara filled me in before taking a sip of her beer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you want to be, Tara?” I inquired, narrowing my eyes and moving my brows up and down teasingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy, ballet dancer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way!” Luke shouted. “I can’t picture you as a ballerina, Lewis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tara shrugged her shoulders and took another sip of her drink, then she pointed at me using the tip of the bottle in her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your turn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to be a cop.” I admitted, causing laughter from all of my co-workers, including Penelope who was returning from the bar with recently served shots. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A cop, really? Come on, there must be something more childish in there…” Prentiss suggested scrunching her nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well yes, I wanted to be a unicorn princess superhero who gets villains to justice using a rainbow thrower.” The words flowed naturally from my lips, again causing my friends to laugh. “When I grew up a bit more I realized that there’s no such thing as a rainbow thrower, so I switched it up for a P226 and dreamed of becoming a cop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s more like it.” She answered triumphantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prentiss, what did you want to be when you were a kid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My boss opened her eyes and tilted her head for a few seconds before answering: “President of the United States.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? I thought you didn’t like bureaucracy, politics and all of that.” Spencer interjected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh I don’t. But when I was a little girl I always saw my mom doing stuff like that, so naturally I wanted to become the biggest expression of her, therefore, becoming president.” Prentiss confessed. “Then I grew up, became a rebel child and my whole perspective changed. Your turn, Reid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Magician, everyone knows that. Next.” We all laughed right after he spoke. Spencer grinned and then pointed at Rossi. “What about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rossi finished his drink, bottoms up, then he adjusted his chin over his fist over acting his thinking process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I wanted to be a chef.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I am sorry folks, it’s been quite some time since I was a kid.” All of us cracked up as Rossi observed with amusement. “JJ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soccer player.” She answered without hesitation. “Funny how I don’t even play anymore. Your turn, Luke.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to be a zookeeper. I love animals so it fitted. I am not sure really when I grew out of that idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We all got quiet, probably trying to remember when exactly we all grew out of our own ideas in order to pursue something more realistic or socially accepted, depending. It was a bit sad to think that at some point we were forced to change our minds on what we wanted to do in order to please others; our parents, friends or whomever we considered important. Of course I ended up doing something similar to what I wanted to do when I was a child, but still, I went through that moment of ‘my mom won’t be proud of me if I am just a cop, I need to do something else’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one is going to ask me what I wanted to be?” Penelope complained, making the short moment of tension fade away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me guess, some sort of universal computer that controls every single tech device and server so everything could be at your mercy.” Luke joked with a playful smirk, he drank a bit from his glass before Penelope hit him in the back making him choke momentarily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very funny.” She answered dripping sarcasm. “Joke’s on you, newbie, because I am already that. What I wanted to be was a Broadway performer, which reminds me, Viv, sweetie” she placed her hand on my shoulder forcing me to look at her. “I signed us for a song.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Penelope, no!” I cried while my teammates delighted themselves with the news. “I’m sorry, I can’t sing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had done karaoke before, but only when the entire group gathered on the stage and my voice got muffled by the others’. That, or I was too drunk to remember going solo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you can’t spend your birthday at a karaoke bar and not sing a song, so yeah, you are coming with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My blonde friend was really passionate about her karaoke and performing in front of an audience. It was going to be hard to tell her no. I turned around to meet Spencer’s face, who I dumbly assumed was going to be on my side, only to get a “seems fair” and a mocking chuckle. Not even one of my friends opposed it, thus I gave in with a long dramatic sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, but there’s no way I will do it without having more alcohol in my system.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got you covered.” Penelope pointed to the shots she had brought with her from the bar when JJ arrived. “Everyone who isn’t driving tonight, please take one and bottoms up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ironically, all the boys sat this one out, leaving the girls to take the shot by ourselves. They watched us as if we were doing something wrong. I shrugged my nose at the burning sensation the drink left on my throat. It was an improvement from the disgust’s face I made when I had my first shot with the team at O’Keefs back when we closed my first case at the BAU. A few ‘whoo’, ‘yeah’, and other cheering phrases blew in the air right after it, courtesy of my female teammates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Next up, we have Penelope Garcia and Vivian Contreras, ladies please come up here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The karaoke DJ and host spoke over the mic prompting us to get on stage. I felt my stomach sinking. I was nothing more than a shower singer. I felt terrified and angry at Penelope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll get over it” She said with a wide smile, grabbed my arm and pulled me to go her way. “Come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glanced at the rest of the team one last time asking them to save from what was about to happen, they all giggled but did nothing to stop it. My friend kept pulling my arm which made me stand up and follow her. My stomach turned as soon as I was over the wooden platform. The host gave us each a microphone right before the music began playing. The guitar riff immediately hinted at the song Penelope chose for us to sing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sing Sandy’s part, I’ll take Danny’s.” she shouted over the music before tilting her head and boogied her shoulders in an attempt to shake off nerves. She began to sing. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Summer loving, had me blast…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt as if the mic was sliding from my hand as a result of the sweaty palms I had acquired from the second went up stage. I was not precisely a victim of stage fright when it came to other things like giving a speech or even acting, but singing…I had never sang in front of everyone, not even as a joke. I forced myself to let go from any inhibitions and to let the alcohol in my bloodstream take over so I could pull off the biggest performance of my life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What else could happen? It was a room full of strangers, my co-workers and my boss. No biggie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Summer lovin happened so fast.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>My first line sounded more spoken than sang, but it was the best I could without going full on performer mode. As the song progressed and it got to the part where both Sandy and Danny from Grease share the same line, I felt more comfortable putting more of a show as Penelope was doing by acting out as the rebel, lady’s man with her over the top moves and face gestures. Lucky me, Sandy was a bit more reserved, so it was easier to stick to my character.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surprisingly, when the chorus came, the “</span>
  <em>
    <span>tell me more, tell me more</span>
  </em>
  <span>” part was sung by the already cheerful crowd, thanks to Penelope’s pumped energy and her efforts to make it as entertaining as possible. I found myself actually enjoying being up there singing with her and being extra dramatic with my corporal expressions to get across the prissy spirit of Sandy. It was also due to me not wanting her to be left alone doing all what she was doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Funny enough, the BAU’s members joined the number all the way from their seats by shouting certain lines that would typically come from a side character during the original performance like the classic: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Was it love at first sight?”, “did she put up a fight?”, “But you don’t gotta brag”, “’cause it sounds like a drag</span>
  </em>
  <span>” and more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As I kept enjoying myself while singing with my dear friend, I felt like nothing could bring me down, I was having fun, it was my birthday, nothing could possibly go wrong. I was peeking. I had the job of my dreams, the greatest group of friends and co-workers, an amazing boyfriend, a nice apartment…I was truly happy. The other things suddenly didn’t matter as much when I sang </span>
  <em>
    <span>Summer Nights</span>
  </em>
  <span> half drunk in front of a bunch of strangers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the song ended, a big round of applause came our way. Penelope bowed just as if she had finished a show at Madison Square Garden instead of a small karaoke bar downtown D.C. I pointed at her allowing her to get all the praise, all and all, she had done everything to make the number special and as entertaining to capture everyone’s attention. I clapped myself in my blonde friend’s direction, before she talked through the mic one last time before getting off the stage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Today’s her birthday, she’s single, give it a go gents. We’re sitting right there. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had rushed the words like at the end of a political propaganda.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As we made our way back to the table, I felt my face acquiring a reddish tone from the embarrassment. Yes, I had a great time on stage, but now that it was over and I had to face reality, I felt a bit self-conscious. Slow clapping from our teammates greeted us when we reunited with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not bad for a couple of FBI agents, eh?” Penelope joked as she took her seat by JJ’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all, I’m quite impressed with our ability to adapt.” Prentiss pointed out with pride. She had been one of the one’s shouting the lines during the song. “We should do a musical at the Bureau, you know, get the haters a taste of what we can do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We all laughed as she was clearly tipsier than earlier. ‘Haters’ was not a word she would use on a regular basis, thus it was hilarious that she did on that specific occasion. It was fun to see my boss a bit out of herself when it was her who reminded us constantly that we were always on the clock and could get called in on a case at any time of the day, any day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was actually hoping more of a sexy number, you know?” Luke teased us with a smirk stamped across his face. I scowled and shook my head. Penelope threw him an olive from her martini. “What? I’m just saying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please take your </span>
  <em>
    <span>duckcrab</span>
  </em>
  <span> somewhere else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha,” Rossi interjected, making us all place our attention on him “Has nobody else beside me ever wondered why Vivian never curses?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Tara dragged her words, just as Prentiss she was notoriously touched by the drinks. “You say </span>
  <em>
    <span>ax</span>
  </em>
  <span> instead of ass, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>ship</span>
  </em>
  <span> for shit, and so and so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There it was. After all those months working with them they finally had curiosity on my choice of not curse or say ‘bad’ words. It was odd that they chose that precise moment to wonder about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, I guess I don’t like to use negative vocabulary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bullshit, her parent’s didn’t allow her to swear.” Luke interrupted me, joyful that he had exposed me. The team laughed. “She told me herself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, fine, I wasn’t allowed to swear.” I admitted trying to hide behind Spencer who was sitting beside me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why don't you do it now?” JJ questioned with curiosity. “You’re a grown up, you can do whatever you want now. Look, if what you need is a mother’s permission; as a mother, I allow you to curse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My blonde friend’s comment made me laugh for a few seconds. She was right, I could do or say whatever I wanted. It took me a moment to discern exactly why I didn’t do it. In my head, it was a way to leave out some part of negativity from my life, the true reason seemed  to be along those lines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I appreciate that, JJ, but I think it is more of a state of mind, now.” I explained finding the drunkenness an easy way to philosophize about my choice to not swear. “I just don’t feel like it. Like, there has to be something really intense going on to spark a reaction from me that would include a bad word. Otherwise I don’t think it is worth it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, so basically you are saving your V card on swearing for the perfect moment.” Tara theorized before cracking up. “Love that. But girl, just like the perfect man, the perfect moment doesn’t exist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Spencer glanced at me before giving his glass of water a sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I think the perfect man does exist, like we all got some sort of standard of perfection.” I spoke. “So yeah, I also think a perfect moment for me to swear for the first time exists.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like breaking a bone?” Penelope suggested. “That hurts a lot, eh. Oh, or getting shot. I’ve been shot, it also hurts a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, like those…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before then, I hadn’t realized how lucky I had been for working for around 10 months on the field without getting any major injuries. I had been choked, but the bruises vanished in a couple of days, my voice returned the day after and the pain and swelling went away within days. I had not had time off from work because of that, nor put on mandatory bed rest. It wasn’t pretty, but it hadn’t been awful bad either. Being shot, stabbed or to break a bone sounded scary and very painful. I just prayed that I could run with the same luck for how much time I kept working in the Behavioral Analysis Unit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talking about shots…” Prentiss began to say, her words slurred.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are not doing any more shots tonight, Emily.” Rossi nagged her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Our boss popped her tongue and made a face of disgust. “No, I don’t want more. I am not willing to put up with the hangover tomorrow.” She contradicted Rossi and used her chin to point at her cellphone in her hands. “I just got Vivian’s gun qualification results.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My eyes popped and my heart began to race. I was a bit drunk but not enough not to recognize how important those results were. I had taken the test earlier in the morning and since a vast amount of agents had been presenting the same thing, the shooting range was busy and results took a bit more time to deliver. On a regular day, it would only take minutes to reveal them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I pass?” I questioned, anxious to know if I was allowed to keep my gun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did!” Prentiss celebrated with a ‘whoo’ and put her hands in the air, followed by a big chug of her drink. “Nicely done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was her score?” Luke’s nosiness as usual kicked in. “Come on, Emily, tell us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If Vivian’s ok with it…” She faced me and raised her brows in a questioning manner. I nodded my head, I didn’t care much. If I passed, then it meant that it wasn’t bad. “90.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not bad.” JJ pointed with a kind smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s actually good, right?” I talked with excitement in my voice. “I mean it's better than what I got last time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you get last time, Vivian?” Rossi inquired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“80.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just like that, every member of my team laughed their </span>
  <em>
    <span>axes</span>
  </em>
  <span> off but tried to disguise it by looking the other way, or taking a sip of their drinks, covering their faces, hiding behind each other, or like Spencer, biting his lip. I was not dumb, the movement of their chests, the frequency of it, and their faces turning red was a dead giveaway of the laughter it sparked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I missing something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not very high, Contreras.” Tara explained trying to suppress her laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” I whispered all of a sudden feeling out of place. “What are you guys’ scores?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“95” Luke talked. “My lowest has been 90.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same here.” JJ added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tara?” I addressed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“100.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way.” I interjected and felt my jaw dropping. My gaze met Rossi and Prentiss. “I’m not even going to ask you two. I really can’t believe 80 is considered low…and that my highest is your lowest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Spencer spoke with his signature soft tender voice from whenever he tried to comfort someone. “I once failed that qualification.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” My eyes met his, he bobbed his head confirming it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on, Reid!” Luke called him out. “Don’t do that, she doesn’t need to feel better about herself. Let her have a flaw once and for all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I narrowed my eyes and clenched my jaw at my friend’s words. He was not wrong though. I knew I was not perfect, but I was used to excelling at everything I did. Having the lowest shooting score on the team was potentially a situation I could learn from. However, I did appreciate Spencer’s effort of lifting my spirits up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell her about your current score.” Luke insisted. “We took the qualification together, man…it was something out of this world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me.” I requested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I just want to make it clear that it took me about ten years to get there, so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reid!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, 100.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alright. That was it. Ego shattered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt my upper lip twitching and the need to scratch my eyebrow out of stress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I slapped myself from being like that. That was what Luke meant when he said to let me have a flaw. I needed to learn to accept that I was not good at everything. It was a bit of my personality that I hadn’t developed correctly, mainly because whenever I was not good at something I fixated on it until I got better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“90 is better than 80, you’ll get there.” JJ tried to cheer me up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, I don’t even have a gun, so, whatever.” Penelope said as she extended her hand to squeeze mine. “Why don’t we…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her words were cut off by two men approaching our table, they carried two drinks each. It was not the first time during the night that we received free drinks courtesy of the customers who saw my birthday tiara, nonetheless it was the first time we got them delivered by themselves. They normally sent it through a waiter or the bartender.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It amazed me how humans could behave just like animals during certain circumstances. A bar full of grownups was unarguably a place where courtship that led to mating happened. Two decently looking males, with the appearance of being alphas approaching our table, meant that the females of the group fixed their hair, pursed their lips, and adopted an overall air of flirtatiousness. On the other hand, the males sat straight, lifted their chins and got into a protective state, feeling threatened by the other two, even if it was not a real threat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the guys was a redhead while the other had brunette hair. Both of them were muscular and tall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good afternoon, ladies.” The redhead talked, his accent revealed that he was not from the States, but I couldn’t define exactly where he was from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Penelope greeted them with her regular cheery voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So we heard it is your birthday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brunette said. After they offered a drink to me, followed by the other girls. JJ rejected it with a kind movement of hand. Luke, Rossi and Spencer didn’t even get an offer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you turning 21?” Redhead questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He seemed like the leader of the pair. His friend was just standing a few centimeters behind him, arms crossed. He was his wing man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funny.” I said with no intention of laughing or giving in to his cheesy pickup lines. There was no way in life I could look 21. “28 actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “So, are you like her friends or her family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Friends and colleagues, actually.” Prentiss answered. “I’m her boss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool.” The brunette stated</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of a sudden he decided that he was interested in Prentiss because he got near her, standing behind her stool. I knew Prentiss well enough that she wasn’t about messing with what she considered a kid. It was a bit hilarious that the poor guy thought he had a shot at scoring a night with my boss. The guys were about my age or a bit younger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The conversation felt awkward and the environment was a bit tense. There were a lot of uncomfortable silent moments that were filled by someone else’s attempts at singing </span>
  <em>
    <span>Since U Been Gone</span>
  </em>
  <span> by Kelly Clarkson. All the same, the two guys didn’t seem to notice that their attempts of fraternizing weren’t working because they didn’t seem like they were leaving anytime soon. And we all felt weird about asking them to do so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what do you work in?” the redhead guy asked, looking at me specifically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not talking to you old man, I’m talking to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He interrupted Rossi, prompting various looks of disdain and disgust from us. How dared he talked to Rossi like that? Was this his amazing attempt on trying to hit on me? Did he truly believe that I was going to just stand up and give myself to him after he talked like that to my friend? No way. He was really out of his mind if he thought it was the right way to get the girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was drunk, yes, but that was no excuse to talk to someone like that. Makes you wonder what kind of man he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch it, we don’t roll like that.” Luke called him out, his voice was strong, his frown shrugged and his jaw clenched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The redhead dismissed Luke’s comment completely, his eyes pierced on me as I held the same daring gaze on an attempt of hinting him that I was not interested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what is it, doudou?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, so that was it. He spoke French. His accent was quite faded but when he finally said a word in what I assumed was his first language, it became crystal clear. Still, that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that I didn’t want his presence there anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not your darling.” I responded. “I think we are ending this here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, I turned around giving him my back and focusing on the rest of my friends, who looked as uncomfortable as it was possible. The brunette friend shrugged his shoulders, ready to give up and walk away. I was pretty sure that the redhead was going to drop it off since it would only make him look worse if he kept pushing it. Plus, I was surrounded by other people, he wouldn’t dare to do anything else, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt his hand on my shoulder, he pulled hard enough that somehow I was forced to face him. On the corner of my eye I felt both Spencer and Luke tensing up and getting ready to stand up, but they didn’t. It was not wise to get caught up in a bar fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not ending it here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just back off, please.” Spencer mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, let’s get to know each other, I heard you sing with your friend who said you were single.” He kept going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Single doesn’t mean willing.” I snapped back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gave you a drink, now what are you doing for me in return?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gasped unable to process that there were people out there who genuinely thought that because of a drink they’ve earned something more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll thank you, that’s about as much as you’re going to get from me.” My voice sounded harsher than it should’ve been, I sighed and built up the strength to remain kind to avoid further confrontation. “I really appreciate the drinks, it was very kind from you but I am not interested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once more I turned facing away from him. It was probably one of the poorest choices I could made because next thing I know, both Spencer and Luke are standing up. Spencer pinning the redhead against the brick wall. The brunette guy was attempting to defend his friend by hitting Spencer and Luke was trying to get the brunette away from him so it wouldn’t turn into something massive. The other customers at the bar were facing us. Even the performer on stage stopped singing to focus on the scene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She said she wasn’t interested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer’s words sounded cold, severe and angry. The rest of the team had already hopped down from their stools and were hyper vigilant on how the situation was evolving. As federal agents we couldn’t afford to have any type of charges, not even something as petty as a bar fight. Spencer, less than anyone else. After the entire prison deal, he was kept under a magnifying glass. It didn’t matter that he had been acquitted, the Bureau was aware of the type of consequences being locked down has on a person’s psyche and was worried about Spencer snapping at some point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>People said often that he had changed a lot after that. That he wasn’t the same, that he became more visceral and at a certain level, more violent on the field. The thing was, that for me, that didn’t mean anything. I didn’t know pre-prison Spencer. All I had ever known was post-prison Spencer, therefore, to me, this was the only version of him. He was a complex man, but I never worried about him snapping at some point. I believed the only thing he needed was a bit of love and healing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever level of alcohol Prentiss had on her system dropped immediately and her semblance toughen in a matter of seconds. She was not letting things escalate. None of them did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spence…” I heard JJ’s soothing voice trying to get him to calm down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t even flinch. His eyes were burning with rage as he stared at the redheaded guy’s eyes steadily. Even having Spencer over him, the man kept a cocky smirk on his face, which I assumed would only make things worse. I debated if it was wise for me to step in between the two men but ultimately decided that since I was what originated the conflict, there was a big chance that I was not going to be able to end it. Foremost, because the redhead didn’t show remorse whatsoever, nor being scared or surrendered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the problem, bro?” The redhead taunted Spencer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have a problem, </span>
  <em>
    <span>bro</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He answered mockingly saying ‘bro’. His demeanor changed into a more derisive and arrogant one. “The fact that you just can’t take no for an answer makes me think that you have an aggressive personality originated by some sort of insecurity. Since you’re targeting women I’d say it is something related to your manhood.” Spencer shrugged his shoulders in a dismissive way. “I don’t know, maybe you can’t perform or your dick doesn’t measure up to expectations. You have a problem, </span>
  <em>
    <span>bro</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After dropping that bomb on the redhead, he kept staring for a few more seconds, delighting himself from the other guy’s expression of vulnerability mixed with impotence. Spencer finally let him go and turned around to re-meet us.  He was giving his back to the redhead guy, which by now I knew it was a poor choice. He took a swing at Spencer but was stopped by his brunette friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, man, it isn’t worth it.” He spoke. “A bitch is a bitch, and there’s plenty of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stopped Spencer before he could even do something. His face was about to boil up again, his knuckles had turned white from pressing his fists, all within seconds of hearing the man’s words referring to me. I was pretty upset as well. I was definitely not a fan of being called a witch with a b. The rest of the team was mad as well, they had all different states of upset but all of them were. Luke remained vigilant of the two boaster dudes as they got lost in the crowd, the redhead was treacherous and sneaky, so it was not a bad idea to keep an eye of them while we were still there. The music was back up again and people slowly went back to minding their own business.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we should go.” Rossi stated the obvious, we all agreed. “Why don’t you go outside while I take care of the tab? If you are up to it, we can throw some sort of after-party at my place.” He offered with a warm smile and a soft pad on my back. “I don’t want this bitter moment to be the way we end your birthday celebration”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Krystall won’t mind?” I questioned, not wanting to intrude at her home. In the past, we could go to Rossi’s whenever we wanted, but now he was a married man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all, she would be thrilled in fact.” He answered. “She likes all of you. What do you say guys? Night still young.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good to me.” Prentiss got on board.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too, I need more alcohol after that.” Tara joked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I vote yes too, we haven’t eaten cake nor opened the gifts.” Penelope cried making puppy eyes and pouted. “Viv?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As long as everyone was on board with it and Rossi didn’t mind, I too loved the idea of taking the party somewhere else. I had a great time at the karaoke but just like Rossi said, the little unfortunate event had tainted the whole experience and left a bad aftertaste. They had not been any punches, it didn’t escalate, still, I was taken aback of what could’ve been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take your offer, Rossi, thank you.” I finally said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, I’ll meet you guys outside.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. 40: Unless You Are in Love With JJ</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>We ended up having a great evening at Rossi’s place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t remember much of it but I am sure it was awesome. I am not of the idea that is mandatory to get hammered to have fun, but man, did it help. Mostly seeing Prentiss and Tara so free while having a drink and expressing things that otherwise they wouldn’t have expressed, prompted me to join them. That and Penelope mixing killer cocktails after raiding Rossi’s pantry and bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only two people who chose not to drink were Spencer and Luke. Both who had accepted their roles as designated drivers. It was also super helpful that Spencer stayed sober because he would stop me whenever I got too affectionate with him in front of everyone else. Or something like that. I have flashes of sitting on his lap and then suddenly sitting at a stool by myself with Tara telling me something about how men are trash and feeding me more drinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a huge chance that none of my teammates would ever remember exactly what happened, except for Spencer and Luke. But I could handle Luke alone, so it didn’t bother me as much as if someone else from the team would have witnessed the event.  Honestly, I wasn’t that sure that it had been a big deal to begin with. I was drunk, everything Spencer-related could be forgiven and excused by saying ‘I wasn’t thinking, sorry.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After rounds of homemade karaoke, no inhibitions, deep yet trivial conversations, we called it a night around 4:00am or something. I have a distant recollection of insisting on waiting Will to pick up JJ before we could leave. Luke, Tara and Penelope left in the same car. Even with half of my brain out of myself, I knew what the night was going to end up for Luke and Penelope, if she stayed awake to get there. Spencer dragged both me and Prentiss to his car and drove both of us home. Leaving Prentiss first at her house and later taking me to my apartment so he could spend the night with me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I also have bits of memories of me insinuating myself to Spencer and asking him to have sex with me once we arrived to my apartment. Kissing him, untucking his shirt, his belt and him forcing me to cease what I was doing only to hear: “You’re drunk, I am not. We can’t. It’s wrong”. I remember insisting but falling asleep before something actually happened. Not that Spencer was going to give in at any moment, he was a gentleman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The morning after I woke up before he did. He had changed me into my pajamas and had removed my makeup. I assumed that he had seen me do that many times before that he knew my night routine by heart. My head ached and my throat felt dry. It was like a crying hangover but ten times better considering it was from a good moment and not a bad one. I forced myself to get out of bed to have some Advil to ease the pain, put some coffee in the pot and feed Chamomile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wanted to make something special for breakfast as a thank you to Spencer for bearing with me the night before. He was my boyfriend, yes, but that didn’t mean that he was automatically obliged to take care of a drunk 28 year-old woman. I did the only thing I was mildly good at cooking; pancakes. I would eventually ornament them with chopped fruit, whip cream and other toppings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just when I was about to be done, Spencer joined me at the kitchen. He was wearing a hoodie from the Bureau and had sweats on. His hair was super messy, but in the best way possible. He looked still tired and half asleep. His eyes weren’t fully open and he stumbled a bit before getting to the pantry to take out a mug and serve himself a cup of coffee with about half of my jar of sugar. As soon as he gave it a sip, it was as if he came to live. He sat at a stool at the bar that separated the kitchen from the leaving room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smells nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hope it tastes nice.” I joked, my mind was focused on the few pieces of fruit I was arranging over the pancakes. When I finished with my masterpiece I slid it across the bar in his direction. “I’m not my mom when it comes to cooking but I try my best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer chuckled before cutting a piece of pancake and eating it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not bad.” He said in full honesty which I appreciated. “You know, cooking is basically chemistry, it is not that hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I finished serving my own plate and a mug of coffee and sat by his side on another stool, my right leg crossing below my left hanging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh I’m not good at chemistry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you had good grades.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes I did, but I had to study hard to get those.” I explained, realizing that ‘study’ was not a familiar concept to Spencer Reid. He just read things and they stuck in his mind. “I am really bad at anything chemistry or physics related. You wouldn’t know that, you are good at pretty much everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Name one thing you’re not good at. Emotions are not an option.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine…” Spencer stopped a moment to think about the answer he was going to give me. It prolonged itself longer than I expected. “I’m not good at sports or anything physical that requires me to coordinate my limbs. You see, I had a hard time as a child developing my gross motor skills. In fact, I used to bump into things all the time when I was a kid, so my mom called me ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Crash</span>
  </em>
  <span>’.” He giggled before continuing. “Anyways, I never got to improve those skills correctly, so I have a hard time playing sports. Even at the Academy, I almost failed the courses, to this day, I think they made an exception just because of, well, you understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For someone who claims to have low gross motor skills, you’re a pretty good dancing partner.” I spoke as I stared at him, taking in all of his gestures and expressions. He smiled a bit flustered. “But also, Penelope told me that you coached a basketball team, how come if you can’t play it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I never actually played it, all I did was make a killer game plan and strategies. It all reduces itself to math; music, dancing, card games, languages…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should’ve seen that coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer laughed and shrugged his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We continue eating while chatting about some of our skills or lack of them. It turned out that there was a fair amount of things Spencer couldn’t do, most of them social or physical related. It was interesting to learn more about him. It always fascinated me more and more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When we finished with the food, he offered to wash the dishes, which I appreciated since my headache was getting a bit stronger. Headache and all, I still wanted to talk to him about a few things that were resting in the back of my head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never got to thank you for what you did last night.” I said. He remained quiet, his focus was on getting the plates clean. The only noise that came from him was the clacking of the ceramic dishes against the metal walls of the sink. “I am glad that the guy’s friend stopped him from hitting you, because I know you would’ve swung back and honestly I don’t think it was worth it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean it wasn’t worth it?” He inquired, giving me a quick glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, a bar fight wouldn’t look good in your record.” I responded as it was obvious, at least to me it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer ceased what he was doing and the whole apartment got silent.  He studied the metal sink as if it contained the secret of eternal youth or something like that. Then, he changed positions in a way that he would be facing me as his low back laid on the edge of my kitchen’s countertop. For a moment he had trouble looking at me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was going to grab you. Completely flagrant and unabashed.” It was then that he finally met my gaze. “I saw him, he wasn’t going to stop just because we were all there to witness it. I would’ve gladly shred him to pieces. In fact, I kind of regret not doing so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His semblance remained serious, he didn’t even flinch about saying those words. He meant it, all of it. I couldn’t decide if that protective and intense side of him was something I completely loved or something that put me off. Funny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was some sort of cold feeling in my stomach after he informed me about what happened. The night before I hadn’t noticed exactly what provoked the confrontation. I knew that the redheaded guy was being a total moron but because I gave him my back, I couldn’t actually see what sparked the whole thing. I didn’t quite remember him </span>
  <em>
    <span>saying</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything, so it made sense that the problem was that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing</span>
  </em>
  <span> something. Apparently, he was trying to get to second base with me. Spencer’s and Luke’s reaction as well as basically every other member of the team made more sense now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I –I wasn’t aware of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” He added soon after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, within more reason, thank you.” I stressed trying to leave behind the weird aftertaste of what could’ve been if he hadn’t intervened fast enough. “All I am trying to say is that I loved that you hurt him without actually throwing a punch. It was so attractive to see you like ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re insecure because you have a tiny wiener’</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I did the best Spencer impression I could come up with. Spencer pursed his lips and looked down as his cheeks turned slightly red, his demeanor changed completely. The confidence and seriousness he showed before vanished in the air just like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, I would never get tired of his sheepish reactions whenever I told him how handsome, attractive, hot, or sexy I thought he was. It didn’t matter how many times I’ve told him before, he would still blush and deviate his sight. It was adorable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, I guess…” he answered with a weak voice. “I wasn’t about to let him go without messing a bit with him. He was an imbecile.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer chuckled and walked towards where I was, however he didn’t sit with me. He nimbly turned the stool so I would face him. He lowered himself a bit so his face would be at the same height as mine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will not let anything happen to you, Vivian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hazel eyes were a bit watery. He was not crying, not even a tear came from them, but they were shiny in a way that made me conclude that he was close to doing so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My head jumped straight to Maeve, his lost love. The one he ‘failed’ to save, as he referred to. We had talked about her before. Spencer had told me about how he felt it was his responsibility to keep her safe and that not being able to do so, was the biggest failure of his entire life.  It was now setting to me how apprehensive he was about the situation. He was afraid of not being able to measure up, again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was sure that he knew that I could take care of myself. It was him who told me I was not damsel in distress and I agreed with him. Still, I understood where he was coming from regarding his protectiveness. I didn’t matter how capable I was or that the chances of history repeating itself were low; Spencer had the need to make sure that nothing bad would ever come my way, he was not up to losing another girlfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neither am I, Spencer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I could say anything else, I felt his lips touching mine in a very sweet, reassuring kiss. His hand was grabbing my head from the left side, the tips of his finger lost in my messy hair. His lips were a bit cold and dry, it wasn’t long before they got warmer and moist. Spencer was kissing firmly yet in a way I was able to discern how much feelings were involved as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just gave me too many emotions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will always have your back. Even with my lousy score of 90 at the shooting range.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I mumbled with my lips still brushing his. A smile formed in his face. He chuckled and receded until his butt touched the stool in front of mine, taking a seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, the average score for FBI’s agents in their guns qualification is between 80 and 90, so 85 is the magic number.” He rushed his words, to which I opened my mouth ready to protest about the way my teammates treated my score. “They were trying to mess with you, and they probably don’t know about these statistics. However, I do think you can do better than a 90.” He shrugged his shoulders and repressed a smirk. “I don’t know, maybe if you had trained with me instead of Anderson…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on! You know perfectly that Grant offered to help when you were acting all weird with me.” I interjected, defending myself. “Switching partners out of the blue would only lead to suspicion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer grunted letting his head fall back in an expression of complaint. I giggled and bounced from my seat to his lap almost in a bridal fashion, clung to his neck and stared at his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why am I having flashbacks of me doing this yesterday?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did.” He responded with a tad of amusement. “It was escalating pretty fast. Tara saw us, though I don’t think she will remember it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you cut me off or something? Because I kind of have Tara’s voice saying ‘men are trash’ in my head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed which made his eyes squint and nodded confirming my original guess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was a completely different person from the Dr. Lewis I know.” He added still with a soft grin. “You got plans for today?” He didn’t wait for me to answer before continuing. “Because I was thinking about going to the Smithsonian. There’s this really neat exhibit on Alexander Hamilton that has original mail sent by him and the dueling pistols he and Aaron Burr used in the duel that resulted in Hamilton’s death in…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“1804, yeah.” My words complemented his. “Sounds cool. It’s a date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But first, I wanted to show you something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stood up fast and placed my hands over his shoulders squeezing them. Spencer raised his eyebrows and a subtle smirk made its way on his visage making me realize that I was giving him the wrong idea. I narrowed my eyes and wrinkled my nose and shook my head letting him know he was a bit off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My maid of honor dress for Addison’s wedding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hypothetically</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For reals.” I corrected him. “Let me go change to show you. I had to get some alterations done so it could fit. Apparently, Addison thinks I am the size I was in high school.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I jogged my way back to my bedroom, where I kept said dress. I wanted to show him, mainly because I needed someone’s opinion and I hadn’t had time to show anyone else in person. I had taken pictures and sent those to Addison and also showed Penelope. Still, I felt like pictures didn’t quite measure up to reality. I changed quickly but failed to zip it up because I couldn’t reach it properly. I figured Spencer could do it for me anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once I got back into the main area of the apartment, Spencer’s eyes and face immediately showed that he was not very into it. I couldn’t blame him, the dress was a bit different from what I was used to wearing or what he was used to seeing me in. I gave him my back so he could close the dress properly, then I faced him with my hands on my hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thoughts?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It –it fits.” He answered, stood up. In order to take a better look, he grabbed my hand and made me do a twirl. “I like the length.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow. You hate it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t hate it, I just don’t think it is…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My style?” I questioned. He nodded. “Addison picked it, according to her, it fits the aesthetic of her wedding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer was immersed on the chiffon puffy long sleeves. He was trying to push them down in order for them to lose volume, regardless of his hard efforts he didn’t succeed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like that it is off the shoulder, it is slightly less 80’s looking.” I pointed trying to find something potentially pretty about the dress. “But the color…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is…different.” He expressed, his head tilted as if changing his angle subtly, the whole dress would look better. “I never thought I’d ever see you in bright pink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I laughed and bobbed my head agreeing with him. Penelope said the dress was gorgeous and Addison believed it was a great match for her country side, out of a fairy tale wedding. I knew the first was a liar and that she said those things because she thought it was her duty as my friend. It was not an ugly dress, but it looked a bit ridiculous on </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Deep down, I was sure that Spencer wouldn’t hold back on his opinions. I was ecstatic about someone being honest and on the same page as me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, you look good in everything, Viv, don’t get me wrong.” He quickly added, probably thinking that he was rubbing me the wrong way with his unenthusiastic comments. “I’m just, uh, amazed about how much you love your friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well Addison’s not my ‘friend’, she’s like my sister. Had always been.” I explained as I moved my hips lightly just to get the skirt of the garment flow. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There it was, the perfect moment I needed to introduce Spencer to the most important conversation I wanted to have with him. I promised JJ I would, so I had to. I knew I was being a bit too risky by just confronting him on the matter. All and all, I came to the conclusion that if we couldn’t communicate and he demonstrated to maintain his petty, obnoxious behavior, then I would have to reconsider a lot of things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had my money on him. I just hoped he didn’t disappoint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which makes me think about…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say JJ.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jennifer.” I corrected him. “See? I didn’t say it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did not find that funny at all. I scowled and made my way onto my couch where Chamomile was laying calmly. Spencer remained standing up, looking as uncomfortable as he could ever be. I padded the fabric softly as an invitation for him to join me. He hesitated but ultimately obliged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has come to my attention that you guys’ relationship is messed up, so messed up that JJ almost didn’t stay with us yesterday at the bar because you were there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know it was because of me? Maybe she had something else to do…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spencer.” I called his name trying to make him shut up. “She told me herself. And honestly it is pretty evident how awkward things are between you and her. If I notice, then you bet your </span>
  <em>
    <span>ax</span>
  </em>
  <span> the rest of the team does too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was not into the newest conversation topic I chose. His muscles were tense, his eyes showed some level of anger, and my favorite; he was scowling almost in disgust. I just couldn’t believe how engaged he was, </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span>, with the entire JJ’s confession situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it is fair for JJ for you to be bluntly rude to her or ignore her plainly in group conversations…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What she did to me wasn’t fair either. I don’t see you complaining about that.” He interrupted me, his eyes pierced on mine almost in a daring way. I opened my mouth hoping for some words to come out to defend myself but I couldn’t find any, mainly because I was refusing to accept that he had said what he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound like it did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He apologized soon after, placed his hands over his face and rubbed them against his own skin frantically. He was getting frustrated with me only poking at the tip of the iceberg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spencer…” I mumbled trying to get him to calm down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was I wrong for trying to fix Spencer’s relationship with his best friend?  Was he closing up going to be a regular thing in our relationship I had to deal with?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hoped not. For the sake of him I really hoped that Spencer would feel like he could talk to me about the current events in his life that bothered him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am trying to talk with you, to understand what’s wrong to make it better because I believe that losing a friend is horrible... I don’t want you to go through things alone. You don’t have to, Spencer…” I sentenced posing my hands on his back, stroking it softly in an effort to sooth him. “You can talk to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that.” He answered and glanced at me with heavy eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Given our history, it seemed to me like he could trust me with whatever crossed his mind, bad and good, thus I couldn’t really understand how this was any different. Spencer building up a wall regarding JJ was a bit discouraging and concerning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why won’t you open up to me on this? It has been four months, Reid. Four. Why are you still so fed up with JJ? Unless…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I got off the couch and crossed my arms over my chest, tilted my head to the right. I was fully aware that what I was going to say next could backfire big time and possibly break my heart. But it was the only leverage I had to make him talk. It also was something that had lounged in the back of my head ever since Spencer confessed his feelings for me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless you can’t talk to me about JJ because you are in love with JJ.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer stood up right after and took a step to get close to me. I pulled back avoiding his touch, that almost made me trip over the coffee table in the living room. His instinct was to catch me if I fell, but his hands remained empty after I succeeded in keeping my balance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true!” He hurried to explain. “I love you!” He almost yelled. “Me, not being able to face Jennifer after what she said doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that I am in love with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last thing he said in a quieter voice. Spencer’s hazel eyes were drilled on to mines. His face reflected concern; his brows were knitted together, his bottom lip twitched subtly and every time he gulped it was extremely noticeable. He reached to grab my hands, letting him this time, I held his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amidst all of his words, the only thing that stood out in the spur of the moment was ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you’</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Those three words caused an electricity pulse in my spine and my hands to shake mildly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I loved him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course I had thought about that before. Everything Spencer Reid made me feel surpassed the regular worrisome and protectiveness of someone you care for. Whenever I entered a room I found myself looking for him. When something good happened I immediately wanted to share it with him, and the same happened with the bad moments. I wanted to make him feel safe, for him to be happy and finally stop hurting. I would do anything for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been like that for quite some time. Even before we got together, back when I dumbly classified my feelings for Spencer as a tiny itty bit crush. I just couldn’t bring myself to call it what it was; love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surprisingly, Spencer was the one brave enough to say it at loud first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the expression of disquietude painted all over his face I was able to realize that I was taking more time than I originally anticipated to say something back at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank God.” I blurted out letting an enormous sigh out of my chest. “I was really afraid that you would –that I, ugh.” I stuttered and mixed my words and ideas onto a big mashed ball of feelings. I felt his hand on my cheek, his thumb caressing my skin, his touch made me relax. “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The corner of Spencer’s lips curved slightly up as he tried to contain a grin from taking over his semblance. A lock of his brunette wavy hair fell over his face inviting me to accommodate it behind his ear, just to get a better view of his visage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had been unconsciously nervous about bringing up the possibility of him being in love with JJ and that being the reason why he couldn’t talk with her to sort things out and got all defensive with me. My heart was certain that his answer was going to be negative, one just doesn’t fake all those emotions and moments of intimacy, nonetheless, I couldn’t know for sure ever without asking it. I had been too scared to blow up the relationship I considered to be maturing. Finally I had closure on something I had been avoiding to confront. I hoped Spencer could get that too, for both his well being and JJ’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt his lips pressing on top of mine hard. Each of his hands were sitting on my face in a way that his thumbs pressed on my jawline and the rest of his fingers tangled in my hair. I placed my hands so I opted to put them over his to reassure his grip as I let myself sink in his kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A soft, furry, thing brushed my legs and his, making us both recede from the other. Chamomile had decided that he wanted to take part of the heartfelt moment and wiggled himself in the small space that separated Spencer and me. I giggled at the sight of my big fluffy dog insisting on sitting on a reduced gap as he tried to spread love with us as well, his head turned to face me and then him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer petted Chamomile’s head. “I love you too, buddy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By the way he’s wagging his tail and is smiling, because yes, dogs smile don’t fight me on this one, I think he loves you too, Spence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer spent a lot of time in my apartment, enough time for him and my furry friend to create a bond almost as strong as the one with me. Chamomile knew when he was at the door, his bark was different, it was more of a cry for me to let him in. He received him with lots of smooches and a vigorous oscillating tail as well as a little dance that consisted of him standing in his back paws so his frontal paws would be reaching Spencer until he acknowledged him. Chamomile also loved to snuggle right in the middle of us whenever we were lounging in the living room or bed, he demanded us to pay as much attention to him as to each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They say dogs sense a human’s energy. Or smell and hear anything out of the ordinary according to their experience with past behaviors in order to establish if someone is trustworthy or not, as Spencer explained it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a couple seconds of playing with my pooch’s ears and fur, Spencer glanced at me with a sterner aura. I got the feeling that he was about to get real, and that he was having some trouble building up the courage to talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whenever I am near JJ I get this sensation that it is morally wrong to do so. Because of Will, of Henry and Michael. I feel like I am the other man even though I am not.” Spencer met my eyes briefly and then lowered his sight. His fingers rubbed against the others. “I don’t know how to act like if nothing ever happened; to be best friends when I know she has feelings for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice was pitchy, couldn’t maintain the same tone during the explanation he was giving, it was a sign that he was fighting himself not to cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are trying to say that you fear JJ will act on her feelings on you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded softly answering my question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could understand that feeling when you know someone likes you but you just can’t reciprocate. It has you on edge most of the time wondering if even the smallest action of friendliness could set off a chain of events leading to misunderstanding and awkwardness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However I personally didn't get the vibe that JJ would ever betray her family to pursue what I considered to be an obvious platonic type of love. She knew that what she had with Will was the closest thing to perfect, they loved each other very, very much and had two amazing kids together. If there was something JJ cherished the most, it was her family. She would never, ever do anything to hurt them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Spencer was too confused and closed up to anything related to her that he seemed to be oblivious of her friends’ character. He, himself had told me that when JJ confessed to her eternal love, Casey had a gun pointed at her head, threatening to shoot if she didn’t share a very intimate secret, oh, and he had to be convinced she was telling the truth, otherwise he was going to shoot as well. In that scenario, I could picture myself saying or doing absolutely anything in order to give the performance of a lifetime to persuade an erratic armed man so he would spare my life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My brain was telling me to explain to him all of these points, to help him reason. My heart knew that the right thing was for her, JJ, to be the one to explain herself. The only thing he had to do was to give her a chance to do so, and to actually listen to her. My sole task was to convince him that it was worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like to talk about the things I don’t understand. I don’t want to lose my best friend but I am also apprehensive. It doesn’t matter what she confessed to, the point is that she lied to me for over ten years. How can I trust her again? You see, my relationship status with JJ is something I can’t figure out yet and I don’t want to engage contact with her until I know how to proceed. ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alright, he was beginning to make sense. He had trust issues, that was the problem. I applied pressure over his hands trying to stop him from fidgeting out of anxiousness. He had trouble keeping eye contact with me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t ever figure it out if you don’t talk to her about it.” I then cupped his face so he would have no other choice than to look at me. “You know I am a big fan of spurting out my feelings the minute someone asks about them. I also know that you aren’t but sometimes talking is the only way to understand things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I let go of his face just to be hugged by him, he squeezed me tightly and hid his face in the nook of my neck. I clutched onto him too. He was way taller than me, but right then, somehow he felt tiny in my arms. From the movement of his chest and the quiet sobs, I could tell that he was crying. Spencer was having a lot of trouble making out what he was feeling; he was in pain, he was angry, he was confused, he was a lot of things that probably he had been evading to think about. I pushed him to think about them and now he was crumbling in my arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This matter with JJ is something you need to discuss with her; how it is going to be, where do you both stand, what are her intentions, your intentions. Get on the same page in order to make it work, if you’re both up to it.” I continued explaining something that to me, was logical. “This is something you can’t figure out on your own, is a two-person discussion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand.” He pointed with an almost inaudible cracking voice, the nearness of his mouth to my ear was the only thing that allowed me to discern what he was saying. “I’ll talk to JJ, I think it is the healthiest thing to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After sentencing that he was giving a chat with JJ a go, Spencer leant back enough for our gazes to meet, yet his arms were still attached to my body. I wiped his tears with my thumbs, just as he had done with me many times before. This was my turn to care for him. He cleared his throat and scrunched his nose before talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I also don’t like that it is making you doubt about the way I feel about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I chuckled nervously as I knew that I had only brought that up to push him out of his comfort zone. Yes, while I was pronouncing the words I got terrified for him to actually admit that he was in love with JJ. A bigger part of me felt confident about </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> relationship. It had been a dirty move to pull on him, it ended up with him in tears. But I was tired of his behavior and the tension it caused on the team.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What he didn’t know, couldn’t hurt him. Right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry if I ever did. I just needed to be sure that your avoidance to JJ was not related to, well, you understand.” I responded with a sheepish yet forced grin. Oh no, I was starting to feel a bit guilty about taking him to the edge just to get him to do what I wanted. “I won’t ever question you like that again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A double meaning promise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer would probably connect it as my way of telling him that I would never doubt that he loved me. To me, besides that, it was a promise that I wouldn’t make him suggestive questions that ultimately have the purpose of manipulating him to say or do something specific.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was a part of me that had always been there but somehow people failed to notice at first instance. It was also a thing I normally failed to notice until after it happened. Not this time though, this time I planned it, which is way worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I needed to work on that aspect of my persona.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer deserved someone better than that and I was willing to become that person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled widely and leant in for a kiss. Chamomile left letting us eliminate completely the distance that had been keeping us apart. His lips were a bit wet from a mix of body fluids that come naturally with crying, I didn’t mind. Just as his embrace, the kiss felt revitalizing, like a fresh start for both of us. We had nothing else to keep from each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing heavy valued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sweet motion of his mouth progressed into a more insatiable one, his hands previously lingering at my waist, pressured me against him. He separated a few centimeters from my face. Our breaths combined due to the nearness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Vivian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Spencer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me show you just how much…” he whispered with a raspy groan-y voice before brushing his lips on my cheek and then my neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shut my eyes, letting the sensations he was evoking take over me. My respiration got dense as his lips sucked the skin of my neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then unzip me already.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. 41: Time To Break The Piggy Bank</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You gotta be kidding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My phone’s ringtone was specifically designed to be as loud and irritating for me to realize it was ringing even if I was deeply and soundly asleep so I could be notified of any possible case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I checked the time before answering: 1:38am.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A big grunt left my chest as I complained about the awful timing some serial killers had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Contreras, this is Prentiss, we got a case. It is kind of urgent so I’ll send you all the details once you get to the jet, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took me a while to fully wake up and process what she was saying. My first instinct was to reach for Spencer on the other side of my bed to wake him up, but he wasn’t there. It had been one of the few nights we spent apart. As much as we enjoyed being with each other, we both agreed that from time to time we should sleep at our respective places mainly to reduce the chances of getting caught. After Luke told me that he had swung by my apartment and I wasn’t there early in the morning, we didn’t want to risk it anymore. To our surprise, it had actually saved us both from trouble twice already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One time when Penelope felt the urge early on a Saturday morning to drive to my place because she had ‘a bad feeling’ and wanted to make sure I was ok. Nothing bad had happened, but she insisted, mentioning that she ‘didn’t want to risk it’. The other occasion was when Prentiss showed up to Spencer’s apartment before work to return him a box of books he had lent her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My imagination allowed me to have a clear image of how everything could’ve turned out if we had been together when they got to our houses. Not a fan of either Penelope-Gossip-Queen-Garcia or my boss Emily Prentiss to know Spencer and I were in a relationship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ahm, yes, I guess. When?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sniveled, probably louder than I would’ve wanted. I was really tired and in need of some good night of sleeping and now, Prentiss was telling me that I had to be at the airport because we had a case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, and Vivian, light clothes. It’ll be hot where the case is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I could say anything else, she hung up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I forced myself out of bed and hop into the shower hoping the water would help me turn on my brain. After it, I got into a comfortable pair of pants, a light sweater and my forever favorite pair of booties. Since Prentiss had advised me that we were going to a warm place, I double checked the content of my go-bag, took out a few pieces and threw in some others. Before leaving the apartment, I put on my coat and snuggled Chamomile a bit. As usual, I didn’t know for sure when I was going to see him again. I planned on texting Jamie on the jet to let her know that I was going to be out of town for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not sure of how, but I managed to get myself inside a cab and ask the driver to drop me at the hangar where the BAU’s jet was expecting me. I was not a fan of leaving my car at the airport, therefore I avoided it at all cost. Tonight, it was probably for the best if I didn’t drive, because half of my brain was still asleep. Multiple times my eyelid’s weight got unbearable leading to me shutting them for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How urgent could it be for us to be required to be immediately at the jet?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After paying the driver and taking out my bag, I stumbled my way towards the jet entrance. The steps of the stair felt endless; this was something I regularly had the sensation of, mostly after a case on our way back home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shockingly enough, there was no one on the jet but Luke. He had the same expression of tiredness on his semblance as me. He was chilling on one of the single seats. My sense of smell informed me that there was coffee being made at the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put some coffee in the pot? Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.” I said plainly loud before allowing my body to fall like a sack of potatoes over the empty sofa. “Too bad for Reid, tonight, I’ll own this couch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke laughed and nodded agreeing with me. Spencer was the unofficial owner of the jet’s sofa. He felt like he had the rights to it since he was one of the long-time members of the BAU. Spencer would hoard the space not caring about if the rest of us were comfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not even me: </span>
  <em>
    <span>“It’ll be suspicious if I let you on it when I don’t let anyone else.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, right, you selfish moron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finders keepers, losers weepers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stated, feeling victorious of being there before Spencer. I laid back and cuddled with myself and the few pillows available, I was planning on snoozing as soon as we were on the air and the case was briefed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The jet’s captain opened the cabin’s door and looked at us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, you’re both here. Sit tight, we can take off now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what?” This made me sit up straight. “We’re missing three quarters of the team right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Luke joined me in my concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t SSA Prentiss inform you?” the captain looked confused and shook his head. “It is only going to be you two who are going to Hawaii.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man walked past us to make sure the entrance was closed, like he said, we were about to take off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hawaii?” Luke’s jaw dropped surprised, he was probably having a hard time believing our destination. “The case is in Hawaii?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Affirmative.” The older man said with a single nod. “We really need to take off, we’ve been cleared to do so now. Excuse me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He then proceeded to re-enter and close the cabin’s access.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to call…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Already on it.” I interrupted my friend as I showed him the cell ringing. I had prepared myself with the speaker on. “Prentiss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” She answered at the other side of the line, she was probably asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ Is it accurate that only Luke and I are going to Hawaii?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Correct. There’s no budget for more than two agents to go, it's high season right now, we’re in the middle of Spring Break. Hotel rates are over the roof, imagine how the Bureau would look if the press got a hold of the fact that we’re paying for eight people to stay in Hawaii right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though Prentiss’ words made sense and her explanation was a rather complex one, her tone indicated that she wasn’t fully awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, you guys are the most fitted to work this case on the field, both physically and intellectually speaking. We got a lot of tourists to talk to, we could use some of your skills in languages.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No offense, but why isn’t Reid coming with us, then?” Luke inquired to which I casted an incredulous and hurtful look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“’Cause Reid won’t probably blend in with the crowd if necessary. And it also seems like you two have a better dynamic than any other pairing right now at the team.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If only she knew hoy </span>
  <em>
    <span>dynamic</span>
  </em>
  <span> my pairing with Spencer actually was. Or Luke’s with Penelope for that matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I heard my boss sigh, it reminded me that she ultimately didn’t have to explain her decisions to us and was doing us a favor by doing so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, the rest of us will work the case from here. You are just playing as the BAU’s and the FBI’s face on the field.” She continued. “Hawaii’s Governor personally contacted me to ask for our help with this case. Apparently their local task force is being surpassed by this killer, it doesn’t look good for the State when we’re in the middle of an important touristic season. There will be tons of media coverage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. So we were basically a political and mediatic stunt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ‘pretty young faces’ that will represent the BAU when the media asks us things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke was the guy from the team that looked the most ‘G.I. Joe’ type with his muscular build up, his tanned skin and brown hair. While I was maybe not the fittest, but the youngest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I never understood politics nor bureaucracy so I didn’t fully understand why image was so important in that specific case. I got that it was going to be media coverage, but so were many other cases we had worked on before…maybe it was because of Hawaii’s governor being so involved and the fact that it was high season for the state.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing was that I was in no position to fight my boss’ decision, nor did I want to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hawaii with my best friend? Sign me in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright Emily, thank you for letting us know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Vivian. I’ll get Garcia to send you the files as soon as we get to the office in like eight hours. Now I suggest you two to get as much sleep as possible. It is a 10 hour flight and jet lag will kill you.” She giggled almost in a malevolent fashion. “Call me if anything happens.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Emily. We’ll do. Sleep tight.”  Luke added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you too or whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prentiss managed to say those last few words before ending the call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke and I exchanged complicity glances. My brows danced up and down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We were fully aware that this was a case, just like any other. But it was a case in Hawaii. Hawaii, for crying out loud! And we were the only ones going. We could stretch some money for an extra night after wrapping up the case and have fun like we were supposed to do in the Aloha State. It was not like the jet was going anywhere without us. In fact, I could bet the Captain would delight himself with the little plan. No one but he and we had to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My friend and I had talked about it before, if we got to work a case somewhere we both found worth it to slacken some money, we would. I was thinking of something like New York City around Christmas time or maybe Alaska. Never would’ve I imagined that Hawaii was an option since the Behavioral Analysis Unit had never been called in to work in Hawaii.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Time to break the piggy bank?” I offered him my knuckles which he knocked with his own in a complotting fist bump.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the saddest ‘yeah’ I had ever heard coming from my friend’s lips. He was reclining his head on the soft backrest, his eyes seemed lost, not watching any point of the jet in particular. I figured that he was tired and wanted to go back to sleep, I did too, but the possibility of having a nice time in paradise with him pumped me up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course I was a bit bummed that I couldn’t share the experience with Spencer. It would’ve been too perfect if Prentiss chose both of us for whatever reason. Yet she selected Luke and me. I was pleased, this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> plan and </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> idea. It wouldn’t feel right to share it with anyone else but him. Furthermore, it seemed like he wasn’t as thrilled as I was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s on your head?” I questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, Viv.” He responded, pursed his lips and finally grimaced. His hands moved as if he was trying to grasp something in the air. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Things.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Things? What things? Are you ok?” I attacked him with my concern queries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I –I may have something serious with Garcia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My voice dripped with excitement at my friend’s confession. He had stated to me multiple times that what he had with Penelope was, and I quote: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Merely sexual</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I knew that being friends with benefits was a slippery road for them to travel in. This was why. They were beginning to have something serious; a girlfriend-boyfriend kind of thing. My biggest concern was the possibility of something bad happening and them ending up hating each other to the point that a civilized conversation was impossible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something like the JJ-Spencer situation, but like, on acid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s great! I mean, as long as both of you are on the same page, I don’t get what’s making you think so hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is something that happened before we kind of agreed that there was more to us than just sex that’s making me think.” His voice was low. I must’ve looked abashed because he sighed deeply and carried on explaining. “There was a moment when I wanted a bit more than what Penelope wanted from us. It put a lot of tension on what we had so she cut me off and I, in the stupidest, pettiest way possible, tried to replace her with someone else”</span>
</p><ol>
<li><span> That would do it.</span></li>
</ol><p>
  <span>He didn’t have to explain further for me to understand what his dilemma was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were on a break.” I tried to justify my friend’s action in the worst Ross Geller mode ever. “I mean, she cut you off, what happened during that time doesn’t have to bother her, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, I hoped he bought what I was trying to sell, because I wasn’t. Not even a bit. I was giving my best shot on what I thought would make him feel better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say it until you mean it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine!” I yielded as I emptied my lungs. “But I got to admit, I myself had thought to use the ‘replacing’ someone with another person to get them off my mind.” I recalled that time at Rossi’s wedding where I almost bedded a stranger in order to get over Spencer. “I am not judging you whatsoever. Just want you to know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Penelope would die if she knew what I did.” Luke groaned with sad eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhg, I hate to be that person, you know I’m all about talking and honesty and Penelope is my friend too, but…does she really need to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re suggesting me to lie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! I am saying to omit it.” I corrected him. “Why would you want to tell her, anyways?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I feel like our relationship won’t work unless I come clean, you know? How am I supposed to look her in the eyes if I am keeping this from her?” Luke’s hands were now white from the amount of force him was closing them with. “That I slept with your neighbor when she wasn’t giving me what I wanted, just like an immature teen!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on!” I interrupted him by yelling my words. “Hold your horses buddy. Did you say: ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> neighbor’? As in, Jamie, perhaps?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My mouth opened a few inches, my brows furrowed and my head tilted to the right. I was heavily surprised by that last part involving my neighbor. Luke shut his eyes and pushed his eyelids tightly, his head hit the higher part of the seat’s backrest. His right flew onto his forehead palming it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck.” He mumbled, his teeth crunching. “I wasn’t supposed to mention that detail…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curiously enough, it kind of made sense he had a thing with Jamie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke had been reluctant to share with me the reason he had stopped by my apartment early in the morning before the Naples case. It was weird for him to show up out of the blue at my house, he was more of the texting before getting there kind of guy, so when he told me about it, it felt a bit strange. However, I was so worried about not getting my cover blown or letting anything slip from my mouth regarding Spencer, that I didn’t push it. We both gave up the matter because it was only going to lead to one of us getting burned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had also given me a salted caramel latte from Jamie’s bakery that same day. It never crossed my mind that he had gone there to see her, not to specifically get the drink for me. A bit egoistical, but it was something friends did, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The same morning, Penelope and Luke felt even more tense than usual when talking to each other. My blonde friend didn’t seem to be very mindful of it, but Luke had been acting rather uncomfortable around us. I assumed that it was because I was hiding something from him. Now it clicked that he was behaving so bizarre due to having Penelope by his side right after his mischievous deed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With. My. Neighbor. Jamie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did this guy have a particular affinity to bed </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> friends?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Luke, don’t.” I called him after seeing him getting so flustered. “There’s nothing wrong with letting me know…I’m not going to tell anyone. Got to be honest though, I am a bit annoyed that none of you told me about it in the first place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke gave me an irritated look, he let his hands drop to his lap with the palms facing to the ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How could we? You’re being all sneaky and secret-y, have been for the past couple of months.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Viv.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luke, I –I don’t know what to tell you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, you don’t need to tell me everything that goes on with your life, but I’d appreciate to feel included sometimes.” He shrugged and turned his back on me, cuddling his go-bag, which had been laying on the seat by his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I opened my mouth to answer him back, but I couldn’t find anything to tell him. He was right. I had been a little distant the past months, mainly because I spent all of my free time with Spencer. When I was around the team, I avoided mentioning my ‘weekend plans’ or things that could somehow end up with my boyfriend’s name casually slipping out from me. I hadn’t noticed how it was affecting my friendship with Luke, or everyone else, apparently. Not even Jamie told me about her fling with my co-worker and friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe the whole plan of keeping my relationship a secret was bursting right in my face. I did it to maintain things light and breezy among Spencer and me, but it was being at the expense of other important people in my life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was near 2:30am, I was tired, sleepy, in a flying jet on my way to Hawaii to work on a case. A lot of things had changed in my life recently, things had been put into perspective in so many ways. I had no intention to feel any type of tension between my friend and me, especially not over something that was simple to open up about. I had to give him a little something to make him feel like I wasn’t shutting him out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right, ok?” I spoke with a slightly higher volume. “I’ve been keeping something for myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke’s only movement was the one of his back softly going up and down from his respiration. I was not even sure that he was listening, still, I thought it was worth continuing to explain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My parents are getting a divorce.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fine, maybe it was not a revelation with the same value to his, but it was the best I could do without giving away my relationship with Spencer. This was not the right moment to tackle that specific subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My parents’ divorce. That I could talk about, in fact, I needed to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I saw my friend sit up straight and turn around to meet me. His face was a soft reflection of pity. His lips pursed in a sideway grimace and droopy eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because if I did, then it became real.” I shocked myself with my own honesty. “I’ve had time to think and process it. Right now the problem isn’t that my mom and my dad are no longer together; I mean, it sucks that my family is no longer one. However what keeps me up at night is the fact that they suddenly fell out of love after all those years, after everything they’ve been through.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was not lying to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took me a month or so to accept that my parents were getting a divorce. Yes, it hurt whenever I went back to think about the good times in our past, but the asphyxiating pain on my throat and chest was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer had told me that this was a type of grief, one way or another it was a loss, and that most likely I would go through every stage of it before I could move on. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. It was this last stage that opened my eyes fully to reality and helped me get a cold head to think about the situation clinically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In an attempt to make sense of the situation in order to finally leave the matter behind, I stumbled across a terrifying fact: It doesn’t matter how much they once loved each other or everything they had been through together, there can be a moment when you simply don’t feel the same about your significant other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had haunted me for a couple of weeks, but didn’t want to share that with Spencer, he had his plate full with all the JJ business for me to add some pressure on a probably irrational fear. I also felt that telling him about that would heavily imply that I was already thinking about a long term commitment, which I wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t need to know that though, it would only overwhelm him. We had only been together for a couple of months.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a bit hypocritical to force him to open up about things when I kept some to myself, but I weighed my options before choosing not to let him know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry, Vivian.” Luke finally said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t do that, you shouldn’t apologize for something you have nothing to do with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke scoffed and shook his head pressing his lips against each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. I’m not sorry about your parents splitting, I am just a bit concerned that you don’t believe in love anymore.” He elaborated using his hands to emphasize his ideas. “Is this why you stopped going out with dudes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, but it was a pretty good fake excuse that wouldn’t involve Spencer being my boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I simply bobbed my head slowly, hoping that my acting was convincing enough for him not to ask more questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is not that I don’t believe in love, it is that I am afraid that in, I don’t know, maybe 30 years I will wake up and S…” I stopped myself from dropping his name, I didn’t notice it right away, but my voice was shaking “Someone, whomever ends up with me, suddenly decides that they don’t love me anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what happened with your parents?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Mom said that after I left for college, she and dad realized they had nothing in common anymore, and they fell out of love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Psych, you should know better than this. No relationship works the same way.” Luke said as if it was obvious. “Sure, there are basic dynamics and if you mix the same ingredients, you’ll get the same result. Whomever you end up with, is not going to be your father, and you are not your mother, so…chances are that nothing like that will happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What he said made sense. I knew all of that. It was hard to avoid my head to jump into those fateful conclusions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m no one to be spurting out dating advice, because obviously I am messed up, but if I know something is that relationships is a thing for two, it needs constant work, and your favorite thing; communication. Focus on that and everything will turn out nicely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I placed my chin over my closed fist, paying attention to my friend’s words. My brows were lifted as amazement took over me. What Luke was saying was fairly decent advice. It sounded like something I would say to someone else, but like the counselor friend I was, would fail to abide by my own ideas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Also, stop worrying about the future, Viv. Enjoy the ride, don’t fixate yourself on the destination.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad I told you, Luke.” I beamed at him softly. “And I am glad you told me about Penny and Jamie. What are you going to do about that, eh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke tensed his bottom lip to the left and bounced his head side to side, probably thinking about the pros and cons of each of his options.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No lie, it was a sticky situation the one he was in. I had no idea how I would proceed myself if I ever got in the same position as him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From my understanding, Penelope had pushed him away when he suggested to develop the relationship into more than ‘merely sexual’. Luke got mad and went on to have sex with my neighbor, Jamie. Then something happened where probably Penelope decided that she wanted Luke back so they got together again, only in a ‘romantic’ style. Now, Luke felt that the right thing to do was to tell Penelope about what he did yet he was afraid about the way she would react.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I knew Penelope all too well to know that she was not going to take it lightly. As caring and loving as she was, she took everything personally and was a queen of giving cold shoulder whenever she got mad or disappointed at someone. I also agreed with Luke that they couldn’t continue with what they were trying to have, if he felt guilty about his minor affair with Jamie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If someone did that to you, how would you react?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhm, I don’t know. It depends a lot on what terms we were in when it happened. You guys were off, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technically, she said that she couldn’t see me anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s tricky, super tricky…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to tell her. When we get back, I am going to tell her.” He interrupted me with determination in his voice. “I can’t hide this from her, it’s not right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No it isn’t.” I complied. “But you need to be ready in case she doesn’t take it the way you would want her to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke snapped his tongue in response as he agreed with me once again bobbing his head. I could see that he was tired, he could barely keep his eyes open. Truth to be told, I felt the same way. It was before dawn, we had a long way ahead of us and a case that apparently was important enough for Hawaii’s governor to personally invite the BAU on the field.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I loved how important conversation occurred in the most random places and in probably the worst timing possible. The nature of our job spared little to no time to actually have a life, so it was up to all of us to take advantage of the little moments to make the most out of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should get some sleep tomorrow’s going to be show day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sang the last words in a mocking and sarcastic tone. Though I was excited about Hawaii, I was not enthusiastic to think that our jobs there were mainly to look nice for the camera. I was also terrified of the idea of facing local authorities without my boss’ backup. It was only Luke and I against Honolulu P.D. As high as our ranking was, we were going to be outnumbered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took my comforter out of my bag, having foreseen having a bit of time to sleep on the jet I packed it before leaving my apartment. Took my booties off and crawled back on the sofa, placing my head on the nearest end to Luke so I could throw him a pillow. I cuddled myself trying to get as comfy as possible to be able to sleep thoroughly for the next nine hours at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being on the same couch Spencer slept with frequency somehow made me feel as if he was there with me. Maybe it was all in my head, but I could swear that it smelled like him, probably from all the time he spent on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke grabbed the pillow I tossed at him, did his best effort to find a complacent position for him to snooze. For him, it was harder since he had two stiff seats to make a bed out of them, however after some time of rotating and shifting positions he found one that pleased him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luke?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise I’ll tell you more from now on.” I whispered, feeling that it was the only thing my body was capable of doing. “And I also want you to know that no matter what Penelope says, I got you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Viv.” He managed to say with a miserably low voice. “Now, shut up. I need my beauty sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A soft giggle courtesy of me, was the last noise on the jet, rather than its engines as it flew, every mile getting closer to Honolulu, Hawaii.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0043"><h2>43. 42: Five-0</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Who are we looking for, again?” I asked Luke, squinting and using my hand as a visor covering my eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Hawaiian sun was burning hot and directed right into my eyes, yet I was too lazy to take out my sunglasses from my go-bag. I had thrown a bunch of stuff in there before leaving my apartment, finding those shades was going to be impossible while standing outside the busy airport of Honolulu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, all of those tourist-oriented videos, propaganda and movies definitely sold a completely different welcoming to the Aloha state. I pictured leis in our necks, a cocktail and people saying aloha every three seconds. In reality, the only person who received us was the security guard that let us into the main area of the airport after double checking our credentials and weapons. People passed Luke and I, hit us with diverse suitcases, their arms, elbows, and other creative stuff like surfboards, banners and leis. A small percentage noticed what they’d done, an even smaller percentage apologized for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I understood that it was a busy season for the island, but it was really overwhelming. On top of that, our ride wasn’t there for us yet. Luke and I stood outside the airport, just near the gate Prentiss told us would be our pick up point. Taxis went by, so did other cars, vans and buses that would take groups of tourists probably to an amazing resort to enjoy their vacation. I envied them so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prentiss said that a local task force was sending some of their members to pick us up” He answered, his eyes focused on his phone’s screen. “Ahm, names are…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could continue talking, a black car cut into the line of vehicles that were trying to pick someone up. Two men descended from it, both of them athletic built, the brunette was taller than the blonde. They turned their bodies with every step they took, probably looking for someone. The sun reflected onto a gold surface making me shut my eyes immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They have badges, Vivian, I think they are who we are looking for.” Luke advised me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabbed my arm and directed me into the right way since I was still experiencing a temporary blindness. I followed him not really caring exactly about where he wanted us to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey man.” I heard him talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I forced myself to open my eyes, blinked several times in an effort to recover my sight fully. When I was able to see again, I met the two men, they were standing right in front of us. Quizzical looks across their faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re SSA Alvez and Contreras with the Behavioral Analysis Unit from the FBI.” My friend announced as he took his credentials and badge out of his pocket, I imitated his actions. “Maybe you can help us, we’re looking for…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brunette one took a peek at them and nodded before Luke could finish explaining. Blonde one seemed skeptical, he leant to grab the bottom edge of my partner’s credentials and carefully read its content.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve McGarrett” brunette announced, extending his hand for Luke and I to take it. “Yeah, we were expecting you. I’m sorry we are late, we got caught up in traffic. Have you been waiting for long?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blonde one changed his focus now onto my ID, which I put away as soon as Steve offered his hand. His tensed jaw pointed to his annoyance at my action, however I didn’t apologize for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really” I responded with a quiet beam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must be Daniel Williams.” Luke saluted the blonde guy with a friendly smile and his right hand. He had checked his phone again to confirm that he was saying the right name our boss had sent us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though hesitant, the blonde guy took it and nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Danny.” He corrected my friend. “I would’ve never guessed you were the FBI agents we were expecting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What were you expecting?” I inquired, my brows raised in a daring way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Tailored suits, ties, high heels for the lady, and moccasins for the gentleman."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Danny…” Steve nagged his friend. From the way he said his name, I could easily tell that he had discussed something alluding to the subject with him earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry to disappoint.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t sure where all the sass was coming from, but blonde guy, or Danny as he called himself, was probably getting on my nerves on a level it shouldn’t. We had only known each other for less than five minutes and I already wanted to slap him. He had not done anything wrong, it was more of his doubtful attitude towards our real identities that pissed me off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, why don’t we get going?” Steve clapped getting everyone’s attention as a result, he also let out a nervous chuckle. “This way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke and I followed them back to the wrongly parked car. A few passing drivers shouted at us that it wasn’t a parking spot, to which our newly met colleagues answered by flashing their badges. Steve kindly offered himself to put our bags on the car’s trunk before taking his place at the driver’s spot, Danny was his co-pilot while Luke and I rode in the backseats. As soon as the car began to move, the inherent awkward silence made its debut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, tell us about the case.” Luke broke the ice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought your team already had the files.” Danny pointed, his piercing blue eyes stared at us accusingly through the rear-view mirror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We do, we already went through them with the rest of the team.” To my misfortune, my words were cut off by my own yawn. I apologized and continued. “We want to hear it from you too since you guys are the ones with experience in this territory.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly” Luke supported me. “We want your opinion on what doesn’t make sense, what’s off, anything that rubs you the wrong way. We want to know what makes this case different enough for you to request the BAU’s help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s different is that Governor Mahoe seems to think we need your help. No offense, but we could’ve solved this case with just a little more time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Danny…” Steve called out his partner again. He dedicated an apologetic glance to us. “The thing is, that we don’t have that luxury. You see, these murders have become almost a daily thing. We’re in the middle of spring break, it doesn’t look good for the state.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I bobbed my head agreeing with him. The relevance of our presence was not due to them not being capable of solving the case, it was about getting as much help as possible to stop the unsub as quickly as we could. I was rooting for us to do so, that way I could get on with my mini one-day vacation and then go home back to my boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what we were told.” Luke responded. “We just want to help to catch this guy before Hawaii’s image gets tainted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re kind of boyfriend-girlfriend?” Danny changed the subject completely. “I get some vibes about you two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My friend and I looked at each other alarmed at first. The longer I stared at his face, the bigger the desire I felt to crack up, which we both ended up doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No man, we’re not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you? Are you boyfriend-boyfriend or what?” I teased back at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughed and shook his head refuting my words while Danny observed the road ahead of him, not wanting to face any of us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the ride we chit-chatted about our jobs, the differences between what they did and what we did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turns out that the Five-0 task force is basically the archipelago’s problem solver. They took care basically of everything; terrorism, mobs, murders, kidnapping, fraud, so on and so on. It was pretty impressive how they managed to handle all of those cases and actually solve them. No wonder why Danny believed that they could’ve solved these murders without our help. Their team could definitely manage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Prentiss had suggested, we were just a publicity and political stunt to give the citizens and visitors a sense that they were taking extraordinary measures to put an end to this specific case. I refused to act as if we were only meant to be the FBI’s liaison, if I had traveled ten hours to get there, then I was working the </span>
  <em>
    <span>deck</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of it to help solve it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The further we entered downtown Honolulu, the more I got excited. A part of me suggested that I was wrong about the amount of enthusiasm I had for a case that had five casualties already just because I was stunned by the location of it. The civilian part of me wanted to take out my phone and record some sick videos to post on my instagram account, the FBI agent portion told me that it would be highly unprofessional and that I was going to be heavily judged by our hosts, thus I restrained myself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My jaw dropped a few centimeters once the car entered the parking lot of what I assumed was the Five-0 headquarters. It was a big almost-castle-y looking building, with beautiful green gardens and a statue of King Kamehameha was placed right in the middle of the roundabout entry. Ten times better than Naples police station, and that was a great one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, I knew stuff about Hawaiian culture, history and folklore. I took a class on it when I was pursuing my cultural history degree.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The car stopped and the four of us got out of it. Steve handed us our bags and led the way inside the building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To my dismay, the inside was a bit more ‘regular’ than the outside. It was still better than most of the stations we got to work with, but nothing out of the ordinary. Except for their tech center. It was full of cutting edge technology out of a freaking action movie. I wished Penelope was there with us to rejoice herself for a space tailored for her without being dark and stuffy like her lair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice place you have here.” I complimented their working area, making small circles over my own axis to get the full view of the room. “The FBI would never.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One thing for another. You guys got a private jet.” Steve pointed out with excitement and a rhythmical head bob.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My attention went immediately to the murder board they had set up already. I left my bag over an apparent empty desk and made my way to analyze what they already had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For a change! There is a girl here other than me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An obviously female voice disrupted my concentration and made me turn to face her. She was probably two or three inches taller than me, brown skin, slim built and a pretty smile. She ignored the three other people in the room and went straight to me offering her right hand which I shook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Tani Rey”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“SSA Vivian Contreras.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I really need to call you SSA or agent?” Tani questioned with an eyebrow raised and narrowed eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really, I’m just being formal.” I grinned softly trying to reassure her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two other men entered the room, making Tani and me the only two females along with five men. I could already tell how she would feel on a regular basis by working only with them. It drove me crazy sometimes to be paired up with two boys at the same time, being the only girl would make me lose it. Too much testosterone for my taste. I was very lucky to live and work on a time when male and female agents could actually labor in the same environment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So your team is made up mostly of boys?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it but having a girl around is refreshing. It’s rare when it happens.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should visit the BAU, it is mostly women.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, they outnumber us five to three.” Luke joked as he approached us, they saluted each other in the same fashion. “I’m Luke Alvez.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hit my friend with my elbow on his side after recognizing the flirtatious tone of voice he was using. This man. Ugh. A few hours ago was all disrupted because he wanted something serious with Penelope but felt inadequate because he slept with my neighbor Jamie and didn’t know how to tell her. Now he was trying to hit on this poor girl, Tani? No way was I letting it happen. He was only going to dig a deeper hole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke complained after my elbow attacked him, he scrunched his forehead and faced me with confusion in his semblance. I shrugged my shoulders playing innocent, moved away from both of them to take out my phone after a ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>ping</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ noise announced that I had a text message. It was from Prentiss wanting to know if we had already settled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I scratched my eyebrow when I recalled that we had agreed with our boss that we would all connect in a video call once we arrived at the Five-0 headquarters in order to begin with the profile as a team, as well as properly introduce each team to the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, we’ll call you in a second. Tell Penny to get ready</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After sending her the text I walked towards Steve to coordinate how the call was going to work. He moved and typed some things in the main computer that I personally didn’t understand before the screen showed us that it was connecting to the BAU’s server where supposedly Penelope was waiting. A few seconds went by before the very familiar face from my blonde eyeglass-wearing colleague took over the entire wall where the call was being projected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Streaming live from Quantico, Virginia, my lucky gal and pal and other people I don’t recognize.” Penelope chanted, her index finger went straight to the bridge of her glasses to adjust them. “Emily, we got them. Guys, come one!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My heart raced as I longed to see Spencer’s face again. He, along the rest of the team, joined Penelope. Prentiss, Rossi and JJ took a seat by her side while Spencer and Tara remained standing as they wouldn’t fit in the image if they sat around the table like we regularly did. Seeing their faces and knowing that we were all in this together comforted me. It made me realize that I had been defensive towards Danny because I was scared about being in the minority and not having my backup system. Now it wasn’t a problem, they were all there looking as gorgeous as every single day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Man, I loved those guys. How was it possible that in less than a year I grew so fond of them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agent Prentiss.” Steve greeted my boss with a single yet firm nod. “I’m honored to work alongside your unit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same goes to your impressive task force, commander McGarrett.” She answered with her typical bureaucratic polite voice. “Let me quickly introduce all my team; this is Penelope Garcia, our tech analyst,” Penelope mouthed a ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>hi</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ and waved her hand shortly. “SSAs Jennifer Jareau and David Rossi” Both of the mentioned agents nodded and smiled subtly. “And behind me there’s Dr. Spencer Reid and Dr. Tara Lewis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a very Spencery fashion, he threw at us a ‘peace’ sign while Tara simply waved. I noticed that Steve returned Spencer’s greet with another ‘peace’ sign, which I found adorably funny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You already know SSAs Contreras and Alvez.” Prentiss finalized.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really excited to work with y’all.” Steve assured with a polite grin. He turned to face the rest of his own team, scattered throughout the chamber, with a simple hand gesture, the four of them presented themselves in front of the camera. “That’s Danny Williams, Tani Rey, Jerry Ortega and Adam Noshimuri.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you.” Rossi articulated. “I really wish we could chat a bit more to get to know each other but unfortunately time isn’t on our side. What do we have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, it was game on. No more formalities, no your team, and my team, we were a whole. I prayed that it was going to work just fine. Normally we had to participate with local authorities, police officers, local detectives. This was a task force formed by SEALs, detectives, the military and a bunch of capable people. My biggest fear was that egos were going to get in the way; both ours and theirs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five victims; three female and two male.” Tani was the first to speak. “We have our first victim, Min Tsou, was 20 years old and has Chinese nationality. Then we found Camile Martin, a 37 year old Belgian lady.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The couple was next; British newlyweds Dina &amp; Paul Thornton, 30 and 31 each.” Danny continued where Tani left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why were they next if the coroner estimates their death about two weeks ago?” JJ interrupted. “They were dead before he got to Min Tsou.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one reported them missing, they were vacationing alone here. Another tourist found them.” Steve explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Strange.” Spencer mumbled to himself, but it was enough for all of us to stare at him with interest. He noticed and realized he had no choice but to explain himself. “It is extremely rare to see an unsub devolve like this; he began with two victims at the same time, both in their thirties. I can see that Mr. Thornton was a fit tall man, Mrs. Thornton also exercised regularly. Killing them must’ve been a challenge, the ultimate high. Why suddenly drop to a single victim?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone on my side of the screen looked at each other as if we had asked them about the location of the fountain of youth or something like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we supposed to answer that right now?” Jerry wondered with genuine curiosity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, it is just something to think about. It may help later.” Spencer answered. “That’s what we do, we formulate questions that we may or may not answer in order to detect behavioral patterns or the lack of them to apprehend an unknown subject.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for the lecture, doctor.” Danny chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eduardo Núñez was the last one, right?” I changed the subject and pointed to the picture of the smiley young man on the board. “He was 24 and was Mexican, vacationing with his friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam nodded confirming my words. He let a big sigh escape his lips. “The only thing these people have in common is that they have nothing in common.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an awkward moment of silence in which probably all of us wonder if we were going to be able to solve this. Victimology was a bit scattered, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from a touristic state in a high vacation season.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prentiss who had been quietly reading something on her tablet, raised her gaze and tilted her head to the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am reading in the autopsy report that victims were stabbed and slashed multiple times, and that the wounds had some sort of rigged edge.” She spoke, narrowing her eyes like she normally did when her head processed information. “Were you able to identify what kind of weapon would make this type of wound?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve answered and went inside a small office adjacent to the bullpen we were all. It looked like it was his private office. A few seconds later he exited the room carrying a leiomano; a wooden small paddle with tiger shark’s teeth on the edge. I had learned about them in class, never thought I would ever see one in real life other than imitations. This, though I hadn’t held it to inspect it thoroughly, I was pretty sure was authentic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a leiomano, is a Hawaiian weapon made with wood and shark teeth.” Steve explained showing the artefact to the camera. “It is a perfect match to the wounds considering it can have various shapes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there any control on them or can anyone have one of those leiomanos?” Our boss struggled a bit pronouncing the last word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Original ones like this one can be easily tracked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We already tried.” Danny cut Steve off. “Nothing came from it, our best guess is that he is killing using a fake which you can get pretty much anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prentiss popped her tongue as a signal of disappointment and grimaced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should focus on this victimology.” Tara stated. “Victimology leads to motive, motive leads to unsub.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “How? I mean, look at them, different ages, different genders, different nationalities.” Tani rushed herself discouraged, until it relaxed gradually and tensed again now with a smile. “They are all foreign. That’s what they have in common.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I highly doubt that they are all connected in a big scheme or something like that.” JJ added. “Since they are all from different countries and haven’t spent enough time here to make an enemy. Clearly this unsub sees in them something that we’re not; nationalities can be a thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But how could our unsub know?” Luke replied. “I mean people can look foreign without being it, take Contreras and me as an example. The Thorntons and Camile Martin both looked fairly ‘American’, it all depends on someone’s take on ‘foreign’. You wouldn’t know for sure if someone isn’t from around unless…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless you hear them talk.” Jerry interrupted Luke with a big clap of excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This means the unsub at some point crossed paths with the victims before killing them, got close enough to hear them talk.” I stated so we could all be on the same page.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We already check security footage from the places the victims were last seen in.” Adam declared, I could tell he wasn’t thrilled to be the news barer. “Nothing stood out, no person appeared in several of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about places the victims went before?” Rossi suggested. “He could’ve followed them and waited patiently for the right time to attack them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would he follow them?” Danny inquired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he is most likely a mission-oriented type of killer.” Spencer jumped to talk. “You see, mission-oriented killers select a certain group of people to eliminate; gays, politicians, prostitutes, bullies…people they consider are worth eliminating from this world. Once they set their eye on someone, they won’t stop until they get them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes you so sure he is mission-oriented?” Jerry questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because victimology says that he is after foreigners. They are the specific group of people he wants to go after.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Correct, Steve.” Spencer acknowledged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s team looked at him surprised and teased him a bit, he only shrugged his shoulders resting importance. I figured that we were rushing our deliberating method but that it wouldn’t be wrong to do so because they seem like fitted people to catch on quickly. They were doing great, probably had done it before without even realizing what they were doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to check the footage of places the victims were prior.” Prentiss ordered in her natural bossy-suggestive voice. “This guy will pop in all of the videos, maybe we can get an ID or at least get enough to perform a cognitive interview to the families in case they might have seen something they don’t realize is important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It will take a lot of time.” Jerry complained scowling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but we have thirteen pairs of eyes to skim through these videos.” Penelope said with a cheerful tone of voice. “Do we know where they went before they got, you know, killed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes we do. I’ll send you the list.” Tani asserted. “Half and half?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since most of the places the victims visited before getting murdered were for the most part touristic sightseeing points, we had cameras and video footage of said sites. Jerry was right when he said it was going to take a lot of time to go through. The Five-0 had already narrowed down a time lapse in which the victims were in the locations, however we didn’t have the specifics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For example, Luke and I got assigned to Eduardo Nuñez’s. His friends told us they went to take a stroll on Kalakaua Avenue in Waikiki Beach between 5:00pm and 7:00pm before dinner. We had two miles and two hours of footage to cover if we wanted to find a clue, something that could help us find our unsub faster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After almost an hour and a half of watching the same buildings, a crowd of people moving up and down the street, shopping bags, lots of colorful outfits, moving vehicles, I began to feel dizzy and thinking that maybe it was pointless. Perhaps it was just my specific task that was overwhelming; one of the busiest avenues in the entire island on peak hour. There was a fair chance that my colleagues had a better opportunity to find something without feeling like they were watching the same video over and over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I occasionally glanced at the other people in the room. All of them had their eyes fixated on different devices however all set with the same goal. It was interesting to see their takes on the assignment: Steve had his chin chilling on top of his fist, lazily watching the video while Danny’s demeanor was tensed and jumpy, his finger ready to point out whatever he saw out of the ordinary. Tani also looked bored, her body was melting onto the chair she was sitting, her feet swinging at a slow pace. Jerry held onto the tablet firmly, his face a few inches from the screen almost not blinking at all. Adam was calmed yet focused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boy oh boy” Penelope’s voice made me turn to the screen to meet her flustered reddish face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Penelope’s looking at porn” Tara teased, positioning herself behind the blonde. She grimaced and looked away almost immediately. “Yikes, I bet they didn’t know they were on camera."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it, Penn?” I questioned, curiosity flooding me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prentiss joined them. Her face did the stretching of her bottom lip to the left thing that meant that she was uncomfortable or clueless. My money was on uncomfortable. Just like Tara did, our boss looked away after barely watching the video. She chuckled nervously and faced us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks like Mr. &amp; Mrs. Thornton are enjoying their honeymoon in a public place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer narrowed his eyes and leant forward so his eyes could be at the perfect height to see what everyone was talking about; he needed to see it for himself. A soft “oh” dropped from his lips before adding a “yep”, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word and decided that it was enough for him as well. His gaze met mine for a brief second before lowering it to the floor. Unconsciously, my cheeks burned making me avoid eye contact with absolutely everyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just to clarify, they are having sex, right?” Danny intervened. I heard Rossi answering with a ‘yes’, which made the blonde guy continue. “What does it have to do with the case?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guys! I have Eduardo here throwing a plastic cup on the sidewalk.” Luke snapped. He had been quiet and not interested in Penelope’s newfound sex tape of the Thorntons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if I wasn’t there, the few pixels of my regular teammates that I had of them, were enough for me to feel their energy and overall reactions. JJ used her index to cover her lips, her blue eyes danced from left to right as the gears in her head until they stopped. Now they had a glim to it. She rushed to grab her tablet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw Camile Martin taking a seashell from the beach, I didn’t think much of it until now.” She explained, her chest moved rapidly showing the agitated state she was. “I think we have ourselves a pattern.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These people are being killed because they are disrespecting the land; trash, sex on a sacred place, stealing from nature…” Steve pointed out, his eyes still over his own screen. “The killer must’ve been there the exact moment they committed their infractions. Focus on those exact moments.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penelope typed something. I imagined that she was cropping the footage to the specific time our victims wronged the land, as Steve had painted it, then she was most likely going to run a facial recognition system in hopes of getting a hit of someone who showed up in all three of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s got Min Tsou?” Prentiss demanded. “We need to know if she did something like this too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We do!” Tani spoke raising her hand, then she pointed to Steve, Jerry and Adam. “It is kind of tricky ‘cause we got the aquarium. Big place; multiple spaces and Min Tsou’s family were there for five hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll split it.” My boss ordered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need to.” Jerry interrupted standing up with a hop. “I think this is what we’re looking for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time, Steve shifted his sight from his device, only to place it back onto Jerry’s. Luke and I united with them, watching carefully; there was Min Tsou with an ice cream cone at the terrace, her family was taking pictures with the beautiful ocean as a background. Everything seemed normal until a bird came towards her furiously flying, his path was straight in to peck Min’s ice cream. Her reaction was to slap the bird just as you would do with a fly. The bird fell onto the ground but seconds later flew towards the horizon seemingly unharmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole scene seemed out of a cartoon for kids and my instinct was to crack up at the young girl fighting the bird and screaming things probably in mandarin that I didn’t understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I can see why someone would get mad at that.” I admitted still chuckling. Whenever they replayed the video I found it funnier than the previous time. “Poor bird. Can you send this clip to Penelope, Jerry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were all looking at me, their frowns scrounged. Odds were that they weren’t as amused as I was because it was a video of a dead girl fighting a bird who ended up on the floor from a punch she threw at him. My experience with the BAU had at some degree taught me how to ignore all of those details so I could enjoy myself a little. Yes, it was a bit scary how inhumane it could look in other people’s eyes, it had been scary for me too. But just as Spencer said, and anyone else on the team for that matter, if we didn’t learn how to put aside the gruesome things we saw, we would all go crazy within a few cases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Therefore, to me, this video wasn’t the one of a dead girl hitting a bird. It was the one of a young woman defending her ice cream from a malicious bird who ended up escaping freely. And it was hilarious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I knew that I hadn't been too insensitive the moment I saw grins and giggles taking over my BAU’s friends’ faces. Though Penelope reaffirmed her animal lover status by moaning an ‘ow’ when the bird fell and a ‘yay’ when it flew away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got anything from it?” Danny interrupted my team’s laughter, making them all purse their lips to stop themselves from continuing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penelope cleared her throat before speaking. “I’ve been running these through facial recognition however my software hasn’t picked up anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try looking at them side by side, frame by frame.” Steve suggested. “Can you do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I-” Penelope stopped herself from complaining like she would do with us whenever we mildly doubted her skills. Luke suppressed a grin from owning his semblance and stared to the floor using his right hand to cover his mouth. “I can do pretty much everything, pal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In less than a minute, both Virginia and Hawaii teams were watching the footage in the modality Steve had suggested. The thirteen of us had our eyes peeled, expectantly to find anything that could help us. I was worried about this being an obsolete clue and had wasted time on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There.” Spencer’s voice interrupted the broadcast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was almost sure that he was pointing to the person he thought was our unsub, however we couldn’t see him since the screen was occupied by the images of the victims doing their infractions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see it too.” Steve snapped, used his index finger to show a guy within the crowd. “In Min Tsou’s video he is wearing a pink shirt. In the Thorntons one you can barely see his hair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I scanned the images until I found the person they were talking about. Once I identified him, it was not hard to actually place him in the other two remaining videos. We couldn’t make out his face, he was probably aware of where the cameras were. However we could discern race, hair color, height and the most important thing; that he had a tattoo on his right forearm. It was a pretty hibiscus flower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Software tells me he is about 6 feet.” Penelope spoke. “Do you guys have a system to run the tattoo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We do.” Tani answered and nodded. “I could run it but the system only carries people who had been arrested or further. Not everyone on the island is there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about tattoo parlors?” Rossi voiced. “It looks like it is a job a tattoo artist would recall doing. It’s a long shot but we need to exhaust our options to catch this guy before he makes a bigger mess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve tilted his head weighing the options, ultimately, he sighed and agreed with Rossi by bobbing his head. “Adam and Jerry can visit some tattoo parlors tomorrow morning, just in case. There’s thirteen of us after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alvez, Contreras, what about conducting a cognitive on the families and friends? Maybe they saw our unsub’s face.” Tara conveyed and shrugged her shoulders. “We narrowed the exact moment they crossed paths, have an idea of how he looks like. It could work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cognitive?” Danny asked, a little confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re talking about a cognitive interview, which is like a suggestive process that helps to retrieve memories.” Steve answered. “I can help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like a plan.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0044"><h2>44. 43: Like an Ohana close</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I can’t speak mandarin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can.” Steve revealed switching the focus of his eyes from Luke and me. “I can’t speak Spanish nor French, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll do Spanish.” Luke called dibs and stared at me mockingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, I get the Belgians.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most of them speak conversational English, don’t worry.” Steve tried to comfort me with the most awkward back pad ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three of us stared at each other uncomfortably until we decided to go into the respective, self-assigned, interrogation rooms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I opened the door I met with a woman, tall, blonde, freckles all over her reddish skin from hours she probably spent in the sun. Her hair was in a messy bun, a few locks falling carelessly over her even redder cheeks and nose; these were from crying, not the sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I inhaled and exhaled deeply, clearing my head before sitting down in the chair across her. Only a metallic table separating us. Interrogation wasn’t my forte. Mainly because I tend to believe whatever someone who was bawling their eyes out said. My chicken heart wringed when I was in the presence of someone who lost a loved one. This specific part of my job description was the one I felt I could never master.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already told everything I know.” She said, her Rs and Os being a dead giveaway of her native language. “Ask police.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Julie, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, her eyes failing to meet mine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not the police Julie. My name is Vivian Contreras, I am with the FBI. You know what that is, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again, I was answered only by the movement of her head confirming my words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you don’t understand something I say, please let me know. I can speak French. We can talk in whichever you feel comfortable in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“English’s fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” I established and opened the tablet’s case in order to quickly check the file one more time before going further. “Julie, we think the person who hurt Camile crossed paths with her at some point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t know. Many faces, all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but there’s this specific moment we consider to be key.” I informed her, lowering my head as an unsuccessful effort to meet her eyes. “It happened at the beach, before you went back to the hotel to get ready for the luau.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did Camile take something that maybe she shouldn’t have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time Julie seemed not to understand the question. I wasn’t sure if it was because the context was very vague or the language barrier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Peut-être, Camile ait pris quelque chose qui ne devrait pas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Non…” She answered, though I could tell that she wasn’t convinced. Her eyes flickered and her breathing accelerated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe a seashell?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah oui!” Julie jumped and nodded. Her gaze was finally able to coincide with me. “She saw before we left, she wanted to bring it home for Emma, her daughter. That is not legal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is legal. But the person who hurt Camile didn’t like it. Julie, is there any chance that someone complained to you about it, stared when she took the shell?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her semblance slowly disfigured, her bottom lip drooped and began to shake. Her shoulders moved up and down as a sign that she was about to break. Understandable since she just lost her best friend. The women were in their late thirties and according to the first interrogation, Camile and Julie had been friends since they were fifteen, those were decades of friendship. I could only imagine the unbearable pain of having your best friend murdered where you were supposed to have a fun relaxing get away from their husbands and kids, just the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keep it together, Vivian. Keep it together. You can’t cry over this. At least not with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What I want to do with you is what we call a cognitive interview. I’ll lead you through a scenario recreating the exact moment it happened. It can help you remember something important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do I do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take a deep breath, relax, and close your eyes for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman seemed a bit skeptical, she took a few seconds to analyze my face and decide that I wasn’t messing with her before she shut her eyes, inhaling and exhaling the way I was doing it, this to get her as calm as possible. When I saw her shoulders descending softly, I knew that she was getting to the right place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a hot day, 37 degrees Celsius. You’re on the beach, white sand, the bright blue ocean in front of you, the shiny sun makes both you and Camile put their sunglasses on while lying comfortably on your towels. After that exhausting hike, the only thing you want to do is to chill and get a tan, how can you not if you are in Hawaii? Is there any music, Julie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” She responded with a soft weak voice. “Someone’s playing Havana on a speaker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is it coming from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From my left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you see them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The sun is my face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nod. The music question was just to set her into a better more realistic environment before going straight to the harder questions. It seemed like it was working. I had only conducted cognitive interviews with the assistance or supervision of another BAU member. This was my first time rolling alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you want to leave the beach, Julie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is late. We need to get ready for the luau.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The sun is setting, but it is still glowing in the horizon. Camile and you put away your towels, get dressed, and begin to walk towards your silver rental car, parked a few meters away from you. Something catches Camile’s eye. Can you see what it is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it is a pink seashell, half buried in the sand. Camile squats and takes it.” Julie recalled. “I tell her to hurry up, I don’t like driving in the dark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does she do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She puts it in her pocket and stands up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Julie, this is the most important part; look around, are there people still on the beach? Who is interested in what you are doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman’s hands began to clutch hard, I can see her swallow with force and her eyelids pressing harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes you can.” I encouraged her. “Camile is right in front of you, see past that. Listen to wind blowing against the palm trees, focus on the beautiful colors the sky is painting itself with. Who is behind Camile?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I –I see a family, they are putting their things away too.” She finally let out. “A lifeguard looking at us avec ses jumelles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Binoculars? Lifeguard?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oui.” Jamie affirmed and nodded her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does he look like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t see. His face is covered with the binoculars or whatever they are called. He has a cap, a swimsuit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How tall is he, can you tell?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“1.80cm maybe. Don’t know for sure. He is far away. He stared at us until we got into the car.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie opened her eyes, her sclera was red instead of white making contrast to her green iris. She was unsettled and fidgety. I realized her leg was jumpy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he who did this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe. We won’t know for sure until we research a bit more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I can’t help more.” Her voice cracked at the end, queuing tears to live her already swollen eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did great, Julie. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we done?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t wait for me to answer before she stood up and held tight to her purse, hugging it. I simply nodded and escorted her out of the interrogation room. The woman made her way out of the building herself insisting that she was fine and that she knew where to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was left alone with my own thoughts and doubts. I considered my first solo cognitive interview to be a success. Julie had revealed a detail that I thought could help. It wasn’t long before Luke and Steve finished with their own interrogations and met me in the common space of the Five-0 headquarters where everybody was awaiting for us. Including the BAU team, still connected via a video call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got nothing.” Luke announced shaking his head and letting his behind fall over a chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neither do I. The family was not paying attention to Min Tsou when the bird incident happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I got something; Julie mentioned a lifeguard who stared at them for quite some time after Camile grabbed the seashell. She said that he was using binoculars, a cap and a swimsuit, about 1.80m which roughly is 6ft, like Penelope’s software indicated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is not a lifeguard.” Steve interjected firmly. “The lifeguard on duty was in another place at the same time. This guy isn’t the real deal, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re back to square one then.” Danny surprised us by speaking and making a clapping noise. “What a waste of time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not necessarily, this piece may come up to play later.” Prentiss pointed out. “Alvez, Contreras, I want you to get ready to deliver the profile to the media by the 8pm news.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Already?” Tani’s voice sounded quizzical. “Isn’t it a bit too soon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually no.” JJ spoke. “We know he is a mission-oriented killer, we know the pool of people he is after, we also know how he looks. Someone knows this guy and may come forward.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are also using this opportunity to tease the unsub.” Rossi went on. “He thinks he is some sort of hero by eliminating these people, let’s let him know that he isn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t that upset him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Jerry. But it will also most certainly make him want to correct us, make a statement. Point out where we are wrong. To us or the media. Either way, if he makes contact, we have a chance to get him or at least ID him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My words, surprisingly, flowed like a stream in the middle of a tropical jungle. I was proud of the way I carried myself and of the job I did and how decently good I was getting on it. The soft nodding courtesy of my boss SSA Emily Prentiss, was enough reassurance for me. A small grin showed up on my face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to call it a night. It’s past midnight here.” Prentiss announced. “You already know what to say. Call us if something comes up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, thank you.” I spoke, placing my eyes in every single one of my teammates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made me realize how dependable I was becoming of them. I missed them like crazy and I felt out of place without having them physically by my side. It didn't matter that Luke was there, I wanted all of my team with me while I dip my toes in an unknown environment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are already missing you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer said with a soft voice, trying not to look at any point in particular. Yet I knew, I knew that he was talking to me. This was the first time that we were apart since we got together. No. In fact, this was the first time we were apart since I began to work at the BAU. There had not been a day we didn’t see each other in the past year thanks to our job. Alright, maybe there had been a couple of days at a time, but nothing longer than a weekend. I just prayed that this case would come to an end sooner rather than later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You now know what I feel every single freaking time you go away!” Penelope complained, raising her voice, causing the entire Five-0 to scowl. “Sleep tight, bye-bye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of their voices spoke over the other as they said multiple goodbyes and ‘take cares’ to us before the screen turned black. Our reflection substituted the BAU members, and in that moment my heart ached a little. Probably they were more anxious than us, it must be a terrible feeling to be benched from a case like that. Yes, they were working on it from Quantico, but that wasn’t the same as being on the field. I sighed deeply and turned around to face the people who were actually there right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys are really close, aren’t you?” Jerry asked with a tender tone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke and I looked at each other. I studied my friend’s face, taking a moment to appreciate him and everything he had done, does and would do for me. He gave me a shoulder bump as soon as we felt the situation was getting sentimental and cheesy for the rest to notice. I chuckled under my breath before nodding.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jerry smiled and bobbed his head agreeing with us. Every other member of the Five-0 analyzed us for a moment and then chose to drop it. Immediately changed the subject onto the profile we were going to deliver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the hour approached, Luke and I decided that it was time to put our FBI Agents’ costume. Most of our wardrobe was casual with tints of formal in certain situations. My outfits were all dark jeans, black tight pants, leggings, sweaters, tank tops in hot weather, cardigans, and whenever I felt fancy, I added a fitted blazer over a t-shirt. Luke was a t-shirt, a simple button up, or a mix of a t-shirt with an open button up over it kind of guy. He wore suits with the same frequency as the one of a penguin visiting the moon. So, zero.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I considered Luke and I to be the less formal dressed in the entire team, nonetheless, we were all required to have a formal-formal outfit in our go-bags in case a situation like this happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As I changed in the ladies’ to a formal tailored set and a white button up blouse underneath the blazer, I realized that I was becoming the cliché FBI agent Danny had expected us to be. I got rid of the messy braid I had been wearing all day and used my fingers to make my hair look as decent as possible for the cameras. Also retouched my makeup on the way, I wouldn't want to look greasy on camera.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I was finally done I left the bathroom and met Luke in the hallway. It was impossible not to laugh at him all dolled up and seriously looking. Tie and all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was awfully hot to be wearing those outfits for long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go before I change my mind.” Luke grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was so uncomfortable and it showed. It was adorable to see him so out of character. We made our way back to the common space to leave our bags and go over exactly what we were supposed to say. No one else was there by then. They had all gone home, except for Danny and Steve who showed up, making both Luke and I to flinch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s time. Press is here.” Steve informed us. I could see him struggling not to chuckle at the sight of our costume-y outfits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is what I was talking about!” Danny exclaimed with excitement. “You go, Quantico!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, his words and excitement made me giggle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We followed them into the room and the small press conference was taking place. There was a lectern, the state flag and national flag behind us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night everybody. I am Supervisory Special Agent Vivian Contreras with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. This is my partner Supervisory Special Agent Luke Alvez. It is our duty to inform the people in this beautiful archipelago that we are working with the local task force to apprehend and bring to justice the man responsible for the deaths of Dina Thornton, Paul Thornton, Camile Martin, Min Tsou and Eduardo Nuñez.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As for the leads we have now, we came up with a profile we would like to share with the mass” Luke spoke after me, his voice felt so different from his regular. “We are looking for a white male in his thirties. Brown hair, about 6ft tall. He has a tattoo in his right forearm of a hibiscus flower. He was most likely born and raised here. A long term resident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This unknown subject is what we call a mission oriented killer; he is high functioning, organized and does not suffer from any type of psychosis. He most likely works a steady job, has a significant other or even a family. This man thinks he is doing this island a favor by getting rid of these people, but he is not.” I emphasized the last word, looking straight to the camera. “He presents himself as a hero, which he isn’t, with really strong ideals and thoughts that he probably shares with his acquaintances.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It may not sound like it is radical thinking; he would hesitate to reassure his ideals if that means that he won’t be accepted. Mostly complaints under his breath. Shows signs of short temper, perfectionism and compulsiveness but apparently never snaps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We would like to invite anyone who thinks they know someone who fits this profile to call the line set up for anonymous tips that is appearing right now on the screen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or to visit Honolulu P.D. if you consider it pertinent.” Luke advised adding a single, yet firm nod at the end. “We won’t take questions for the time being. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few flashes temporarily blinded me, a wave of questions came our way and I felt like I was about to pass out, still, I managed to follow Luke out of the room and into safety from the press. Danny and Steve were already waiting for us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, now what?” the blonde asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We just wait.” I shrugged my shoulders and rested my head on the wall behind me. “He will want to make contact with us or with the media. We need to prepare Honolulu P.D. in case it happens, and inform all radio, TV stations and newspapers that it is a possibility, they need to be ready to act.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A yawn escaped my mouth as soon as I was done talking. It was a weird feeling because I was tired yet I felt like I didn’t want to sleep. F-you jetlag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if we take you to your hotel?” Steve suggested, friendly bumping Luke with his elbow. “You guys look tired and honestly, I believe some rest will do you good. Danno and I can manage with letting the media and Honolulu P.D. know about the killer contacting them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I exchanged glances with Luke. If I looked as trashed as he did, then yes, it was in our best interest to get some sleep and reboot our systems to work efficiently. The clock said it was only 7:30pm, but my body yelled at me that it was 1:30am. On top of that, I was starving. Funny how when we worked a case we could spend hours without eating, but as soon as we gave permission to ourselves to go back to be human beings, everything hit at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke’s own yawning was the answer Steve needed.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0045"><h2>45. 44: Hijo de la Luna</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I was always the type of person who would heavily criticize someone for eating regular stuff when traveling around the world. Eating pancakes when in France? Scrambled eggs while promenading in Japan? A hotdog from an auto service chain store as you discover the mysteries of Oaxaca, Mexico? No, no. That was an atrocity. How dared them to eat bland every day meals when they had the chance to delight themselves with delicious dishes that would probably never get the chance to eat again?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well. This trip to Hawaii gave me the answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Comfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had this revelation as I munched on a Big Mac and slurped on a big old cold coke while alternating with salty French fries staring to absolutely nowhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I knew Hawaiian cuisine was a thing, and that it was probably delicious, but right then and there I just wanted some comfort junk food, something my brain found easy to understand and love right away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke and I spotted a McDonald’s when Steve and Danny drove us to our very pretty, and expensive, hotel. After we settled in our rooms, we both decided that we could use some food, the fast food restaurant in question was just a block away, maybe two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>None of us said anything. We just stared at each other and enjoyed our company. We hadn’t done anything physically exhausting but there was a lot going on in our heads for us to feel like life was being sucked out of our bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We had traveled 10 hours after being forced to get up in the middle of the night. Once we got there, we had to relive part of the day because of the time zone difference. We had to adapt to a new team, profile, conduct cognitive interviews and the great finale was a big TV appearance sharing the profile with the press.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My brain was shutting down on me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We only spoke whenever something funny popped in our heads, like memes, viral videos, jokes, anecdotes. We laughed shortly and then went back to our zombie-like state.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After eating, we walked back to the hotel. The block that separated the restaurant to the place we were staying seemed infinite now compared to the first time we walked it. Don’t know how, but we got to our rooms, they were a floor from each other. It was hard to find next door rooms in the middle of spring break season and in such short term. I was just grateful we didn’t have to share a room. Nothing wrong with Luke, but I loved some alone time after a long day of socializing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, even a people person like me got tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As I normally did whenever I got to a new hotel room, I investigated every corner of it. The closet was big, it had a safe where I chose to keep my gun. There was a mini fridge I would definitely raid at some point. A huge bathroom with the most amazing tub I had ever seen. Oh if only I had the energy to take a bath without falling asleep inside the water... A vanity, a desk, some chairs, bed, basic furniture. A curtain covered a slide window that led to what I assumed was a balcony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ocean breeze hit my face as soon as I stepped outside the balcony. Through the distance I was able to distinguish the ocean being illuminated by the silver moonlight. The city lights messed with the view but not enough for me not to be able to appreciate what my eyes had in front. I gave myself a moment to rejoice me with the overall experience this small space was giving me, then I went back to the inside of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took out my PJs from my go-bag before hopping to the shower trying to refresh myself a bit. The cold water, the shampoo in my hair, the soap on my body; it all felt like a day in the spa, as simple as it was. When I was done I put on my pajamas, combed my hair and crawled into my bed, under the covers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like any other night, I scrolled through social media to watch some memes, get the 101 on my friends on the other side of the world, look at some cute puppies, read wholesome stories, funny articles and figured out which type of empanada I was according to buzzfeed. I was about to snooze, when my phone’s screen lit up, the ringtone being different from a regular call; it was a video call. And the name read ‘Spencer Reid.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I could even process it I was already hitting the green option on the screen that was the one to answer it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Half a second later, my boyfriend’s face took over the screen. His hair was messier than usual, as it was getting longer than I had ever seen Spencer’s hair. I digged it. The bags under his eyes were prominent to the point I wasn’t sure if he was ok health wise; hours prior those weren’t as noticeable as they were now. His beautiful hazel eyes seemed a bit opaque tonight. From the limited angle I had, I was able to discern that he was wearing one of his fun colorful pajamas sets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey” I spoke first, covering my face with the white sheets up to my nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you hiding, are you ok?” He jumped immediately, though there was concern to his tone it was also raspy and low, his brows furrowed. “Viv?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine. I look pretty bad. I just took a shower.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve seen you like that multiple times, come on.” He teased, now with a small chuckle at the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that, but I feel like the camera makes me look worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes disapproving on what I was telling him. I did feel like I looked my worst while on video calls, especially now that I was fresh out of the shower; dripping wet hair, no makeup and reddish eyes. I groaned before getting rid of the sheets revealing my full face. He didn’t seem to mind it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Spence, why are you up? Isn’t there like…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“2:52am.” He interrupted me. “There it is 8:52, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, he imitated my actions reassuring himself that he was right, as usual. I raised my brows and lifted my chin in hopes of prompting him to answer my original question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t” He affirmed. “I had a nightmare, woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep so I tried to clear my head with some books in hopes of falling asleep again. I’ve read five already but I just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I studied the image. I had a very close shot of his face, however I could tell that he wasn’t in his bedroom. That wallpaper I hated so much, showed up every time Spencer moved his head a few centimeters revealing that he was in fact at his living room like I suspected. I was no interior designer but I firmly believed that those sad green tones, and my archenemy, the wallpaper in the accent wall, made it feel like Spencer’s apartment was actually smaller than what it was in reality and worse of all, did nothing to lift his spirits when he was down. Many times I had hinted that his space could use a makeover but he didn’t pick on them, or simply decided to ignore them. I wasn’t sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want to talk about it?” I interrupted his rambling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By that moment, Spencer’s eyes had been all over the place, not being able to focus on one single thing. He stopped and met my eyes through the camera, nodding shortly, almost fearfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I don’t want to scare or freak you out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I freak out?” I giggled mindless of how seriously this nightmare could’ve affected him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took him a moment to gather the courage to explain. His eyes were droopy, his frown eternally furrowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because it is about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not going to lie, it took me by surprise that I was the cause of the uneasiness that led to his insomnia. I was not a big fan of causing the man I loved such terrible nightmares that he couldn’t find a way to peacefully snooze afterwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you it was going to freak you out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was then that I realized that I sounded alarmed when I spoke. It hadn’t been my intention to do so, especially knowing that he was insecure about telling me because he feared that I was going to freak out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not freaked out.” I said on a high pitched tone, hoping that Spencer wouldn’t pick up on my classic lying voice. “It will freak me out more if you don’t tell me what it was about now that I know it was about me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer tilted his head balancing what options he had. Ultimately deciding that it was best for him to explain further. If he didn’t, then I was going to be the one who couldn’t go to bed, and I needed to do so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” He finally spurted. Again, he struggled finding words, but when he did, I was taken aback. “You were shot in the head. I could see it happening almost in slow motion. I tried to run to you but it was like if I was on a treadmill, never got close, no matter how fast I ran.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This nightmare was oddly similar to an event that actually happened in his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice got shakier as he continued with his narration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yes, I know that it is my unconscious doing this to me because I am petrified at even the slightest possibility of history repeating itself. I don’t want to lose you like I lost Maeve, Vivian.” Spencer’s words rushed, his left hand went straight to his eye rubbing in a sign of anxiety. “I know that it is a clear reflection of what happened, and I also know that you are fine. I know that Luke’s with you, that you are smart and qualified, and that you have a navy SEAL having your back. Did you know Steve McGarrett was a navy SEAL?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My point is, that I trust that you can take care of yourself and there’s a bunch of people who are also supporting you. The fact is: I don’t want you to die. I want to be able to protect you because I couldn’t do it with her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spoke softly, dragging his words struggling to keep it together and not cry. I didn’t understand why he did that. He barely cried. A few tears escaped his eyes whenever he got emotional, but never did the ugly-crying thing when you basically let out every drop of water out of your body. He forced himself not to and I couldn’t figure out why he felt like he wasn’t allowed to. I wanted to tell him that it was ok to let it all out, but he was so defensive and hurt when it came to it, I figured he would eventually just break. I planned on being there for him whenever it happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It felt so real…” He mumbled. “I don’t want it to happen again. I just want to be happy for once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It absolutely broke my heart to see him like that and not be able to just take him in my arms and comfort him. My words were the only thing I had to try to ease him just a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a cry-baby like me. It was outstanding the way I was keeping my composure. My eyes were already filled with tears, water falling on my cheeks, but I wasn’t bawling nor was my breathing agitated. It was the quietest cry of my life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t want Spencer to hurt like he was doing by just a nightmare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Never had I doubted how scared he was about losing Maeve the way he did, about how much she meant to him, but he exteriorizing his deepest fears like this made it all so real.  This nightmare was a vivid reminder of what happened to her and how easy it was to happen again, given my line of work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In no way I was Maeve Donovan. I would never be her nor did I want to. She was a genius almost like Spencer, was sweet, tender and shy. I was, well…not that. I didn’t have a stalker stopping me from living my life, but I could easily get shot in the head on a day’s work. No one could blame Spencer for comparing the situations. At least I didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When working on the field, I rarely felt nervous or stopped myself from doing something that could potentially put my life at risk. It was coming to me now how reckless all of us were when making decisions and acting out on them for the sake of a case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Running to a bus on fire, engage a high speed persecution, corner an armed unsub without a bulletproof vest, leaving our weapons on the ground and approaching an erratic murderer, tease unstable people with our words while they point at us with a gun…we never took a moment to actually process what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>deck</span>
  </em>
  <span> we were doing. We did it on the spur of the moment. And each time we got out of those situations unharmed, our confidence and cockiness grew, pushing us to keep doing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was easy to forget how fragile life was and that luck was not always going to be on our side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I, for one, acted as if no one was there to miss me if something happened, like I had nothing to lose if I got killed in action. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>It is my job, this is what I am meant to do</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” I told myself every single time I armed myself with my gun and exposed myself to the many dangers that come with being a field agent. It had been my dream to be in law enforcement, to die protecting my beliefs, for the sake of justice, was probably the best way of dying I could think of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer’s fear of me dying was a wakeup call that I had something to lose. Someone would miss me deeply if I ceased to exist. It also reminded me that my parents would also suffer extremely if something ever happened to me. Addison…she was so worried for me constantly too. All of these people tried to tell me how scared they were about me being a federal agent. It took my boyfriend’s desperate call in the middle of the night for me to realize how much I had to lose and that I needed to impose myself some limits or at least give me the opportunity to think something through before going along with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was not fair to the people who cared about me for me to act as if I was made out of rubber. It was selfish from my part to not give a </span>
  <em>
    <span>ship</span>
  </em>
  <span> about what might happen to me if I disregard something or miscalculate the probabilities.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My parents, my friends, Spencer, all of them deserved better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spencer I promise you that I will not die.” I surprised myself with the firm, secure way I was speaking. No hesitation, no cracking in my voice. “I don’t care what I have to do, I will not let it happen. I’m not dying on you. History won’t repeat itself, ok? I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, his puppy eyes, flooded with sadness and angst. He sniffed multiple times controlling his respiration before wiping the surviving traces of tears from his reddish cheeks with the back of his hand, which shared the same shade with the tip of his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish I could hug you right now, Spence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled softly, making the corners of his lips lift a bit in what it almost resembled to a smile. His gaze didn’t reach mine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish that too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had caught my attention that most of my relationship with Spencer was based on us making catharsis over various events in our lives. There had been lots of tears, drool, boogers, melancholy, anger, stress, nonetheless there had been kisses, hugs, snuggles, words of reassurance, and so much love, even before we realized it was what it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was blessed by finding a person who didn’t get irritated whenever I wanted to talk about how I felt, who actually paid attention, knew when to say something, when to stay silent,  and cared enough to try to make things better even if he hadn’t anything to do with it. Apparently, Spencer felt the same way. As our relationship progressed it became clearer that the problem wasn’t that he couldn’t externalize his emotions, the problem was that no one listened to him the same way he listened and supported everybody else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure, the team loved Spencer, yet it was no secret that they took him for granted. As if he was always going to be there because he hadn’t anybody else to turn to. They were fully aware of how awkward and hard was for him to make friends and acquaintances and they took advantage of it. Of course they didn’t do it from a bad place, they were oblivious. Spencer was too sweet, loving and caring to say something or stand up for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he opened his mouth, all they could hear was rambles, fancy technical terms that if not relevant to the case were meaningless. I felt that after all those years of working with the BAU he learnt to shut up and not to talk because no one would listen to him anyways. Unless it was obvious that he was breaking and falling apart, none asked him about how he was feeling or how he was doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer deserved to be listened to the way he listens, to be protected the way he protects, and above all, to be loved the way he loves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wanted that for him. All I could do was to hope I was doing a decent job at trying so far.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brows were knitted together still, and his eyes were somber. I realized he wasn’t moving anymore, the image froze and then the app forced me to exit it and get to my phone’s home page, where it switched pages back and forth. The call was still going on, though, I could hear Spencer’s breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strange.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I furrowed and grimaced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spence?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did your phone do something funny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funny? Like what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. FaceTime just booted me and took me to my home page. You can still see me, hear me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tapped on the app’s logo opening it once again. Met Spencer’s face, he was concerned about what just happened to my device.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” I responded, still confused. “Maybe my phone’s getting old and it started to glitch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though he had been aware of what just happened, I noticed he was still absentminded and blue. Being thousands of kilometers of distance away from him limited the options I had to make him feel better after the nightmare. I stood up from my bed and spoke with a more optimistic tone:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want to see something beautiful?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already am.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stopped what I was doing. It was no use to fight the color for taking over my already burning face. I cleared my throat before answering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smooth, Dr. Reid.” I teased as a sheepish grin gave away that those three words had quite an effect on me. “Whomever said you had no game was totally wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time, Spencer fully smiled, ear to ear, teeth showing and all. It made my heart jump from happiness that at least I got him to smile with some silly flirting. I left my phone over the nightstand so I could open the sliding door of the balcony, after that, I recovered it and changed the camera to the frontal one so he could see what I was seeing instead of my face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moon was even bigger than the first time I stepped outside to admire her. Silvery, resplendent, majestic. Though I was a more of a morning person, when the night inevitably fell, the moon was the only thing that comforted me. Beyond the city lights and noise, I hoped that Spencer could get the same level of solace I got from the distant sound of the waves, the palm tree’s leaves brushing against each other, and the ethereal moon looking down on us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, there are lots of myths and legends revolving around the moon from different cultures, religions, eras. The variations range widely, some consider her evil, others consider her good, and some consider her to be a him.” When I finished talking I giggled as I came aware that Spencer knew more than anyone what I was talking about. My sight was captivated by the moon, so I couldn’t see his face. “I’ve always been interested in the tales of the moon, but the one that mesmerized me the most actually comes from a pop song from a Spanish band. It narrates the story of a gipsy woman who makes a deal with the moon; moon gives her the love of her life in return of the gipsy’s first born.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I glanced at the screen, Spencer was staring at me, paying attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. You probably won’t…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I want to hear it.” He interrupted, his words gentle and delicate. “I’ve never heard about it before and, well I, –your voice soothes me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright” I agreed and prepared myself to continue with the story. “Moon promises that the gipsy will get her dream man, and she does. Soon, they are expecting their first child. The tragedy happens when the baby is born. The baby was born albino, due to the deal the gipsy made with Moon, while the father was coppered skin.” I explained before continuing. “The father noticed and got mad, he thought the baby was from another man, so he took his wife and the kid to the woods, carrying a knife and…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He killed his wife and abandoned his son?” Spencer’s words caught my attention, they were almost muffled by his own inability to open his mouth from tiredness. He was indeed understanding what I was telling him at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the past, I would have thought twice about telling a story to Spencer Reid. He already knew everything and making a mistake in front of him terrified me.  in front of anyone, but not now. I knew he wouldn’t judge me if I didn't get all the facts straight or if I missed something. I also figured the pace I had gained with my story-telling was lullaby-ish so it would help him to relax, and get into the zone that will eventually lead him to fall asleep again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but that it is not what this song is about.” I explained not letting him talk further. “It is about the lengths Moon is willing to go in order to be a mother. How she struggles because, well, she’s the moon and she wants a baby, made out of flesh and bones. She wants a son to love.” A soft smile formed in my lips as I got ready for the next part. “Then comes my favorite part of the song; when it states that when there’s a full moon, it means that the child is in a good mood. If the child cries, then Moon will wane in order to make him a crib and take him in her embrace…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I checked my phone to see if Spencer was still following what I was saying in a different language from his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t. He was sleeping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cellphone showed me the ceiling of his bedroom, the moldings were unmistakable. Most likely he dropped the phone when he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. I don’t know when he went back to bed from the living room, but I was glad he did. What assured me that he was in fact asleep was the soft snoring I distinguished through the distance. That and that he didn’t answer when I called his name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, it made me feel good that I had been able to help him some way to doze off. Even if it had been to a cheesy song about the moon and the image of her shining in the Hawaiian sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t see him, yet I knew that he was finally peaceful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I called his name just one more time, no answer on his end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0046"><h2>46. 45: Papahānaumoku</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>My hand went straight to my ankle as I hit it on a lousy attempt to kill a mosquito that had been bugging, no pun intended, ever since we arrived at the latest crime scene. We were on a ditch on the side of the road. There was lots of vegetation, insects and humidity which triggered my allergies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I managed to get down to the ditch, holding Luke from his shoulders and making short steps to avoid falling on my face in front of Steve, Danny, the CSI crew, police officers, oh, and the camera recording us for a local TV channel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An officer kindly offered us latex gloves so we could inspect the crime scene meticulously and from a behavioral perspective. The trees and bushes were all covered with splashes of blood, the dirt underneath our shoes was also tinted in red. It was a full butchery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As I was a bit more prepared that day, I had brought with me my sunglasses. Sadly I had to put them on my head as if it was a diadem so I could see the body well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“African-American male in his thirties.” An officer informed us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do we have an ID yet?” I questioned at the same time that I squatted to meet the corpse laying on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet.” The same officer responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I counted 27 wounds. Is this correct?” my eyes met the coroner’s, she nodded confirming the number. “Overkill. He hadn’t gone this far before. He’s evolving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought the doctor genius said that he was devolving because he killed two victims at once first and then he went for singles.” Danny reminded us, his eyes were focused on the ground, looking for other clues. “Here, a footprint.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The CSI team went towards where Danny said was a footprint and began to process it. Satisfied with his finding, his blue eyes joined us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We now know why.” Luke spoke before I did. “He saw them having sex in a place he considers sacred, he had to get rid of both of them. It was not a choice, it was an impulse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He slit Mr. Thornton’s throat clean, no other stabs or slashes, just to get rid of the biggest threat right away. He then proceeded to kill Mrs. Thornton stabbing her four times in the torso area.” I elaborated. “He did what was necessary to take the life out of them. This is just…extra. He is enraged.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could this be because of yesterday’s media announcement?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably, Danny.” Steve answered, his hand was grabbing his chin as he thought. “That or he found that this guy was doing something extraordinary wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It could also mean that he represents someone he knows personally. Maybe even knew him.” Luke added snapping his tongue. Looked around the area, shook his head when he felt something was off. “Also, this isn’t like the other crime scenes. This isn’t an especially touristic place, we’re on a ditch on the side of the fucking road.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He had to follow him and intercepted him on the highway.” Danny pointed to the passing cars behind us on the pavement, you could barely see from who was driving from the position we were in. “Where’s his car?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t find a car.” The officer let us know, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe he didn’t have one. Until we get an ID we can’t know for sure about if he was driving a car.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve abandoned us out of the blue, escalating his way back to the high part of the area, near the road and where our cars were parked waiting for us. I saw him using his hand as a visor as he turned around on his own axis, finally pointing to something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Traffic cameras.” He shouted letting us know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call Penelope.” I announced, taking out my phone and losing one of the gloves so I could dial her number.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talk to me, beautiful creature. I am missing hearing your sweet melodic voice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Penn.” I giggled, still not used to her overly friendly greetings. “I need you to pull some footage from a traffic camera.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Address?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pali Highway around Na’Uanu Valley, any cameras you can get videos from is…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Viv, Viv, Viv, Viv” Penelope interrupted my rushing my name, almost making it sound as if she was only saying one word. “Guys!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She screamed urgently, I figured that she was calling the rest of the team that was with her. My gut told me that I should gather the team on my side as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luke, Danny, Steve!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three men rushed after my call, Steve almost skidding his way down the ditch. Managed it like a pro, nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” he asked alarmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you turn on the news?” Prentiss voice overshadowed Penelope’s failed attempts on explaining herself. “KHON2”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve took his phone out and syntonized it to live TV on a special app.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The screen was taken over images of destruction; buildings falling, forests burning, volcanoes erupting, oceans filled with trash…my heart ached from watching them. On top of that a deep distorted voice spoke:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I am cleaning Hawaii from all the scum and trash from the island. Tourists don’t give us life, they ruin our home, wake up people. They disrespect our land and trash it after getting drunk and having sex at our beaches. I, for one, am enforcing the Aloha ʻĀina we are all supposed to follow and live in. Love the Earth, love our home. The FBI are traitors, Agents Contreras and Alvez are traitors.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>My first instinct was to glance at my mentioned friend, he did the same for a few seconds. I realized that everyone who was present was staring at us too, but I didn’t pay attention to them. I shifted back to the live broadcast.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They are wrong to ask you, my people, to help them catch me. I am protecting my people and my land. Catching me turns them into traitors. They are just foreigners disrespecting my home and deserve to die just like everyone who wasn’t born in these islands. I am a hero. I am a savior. Hawaii’s savior.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The broadcast was the video looping. It repeated itself over and over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garcia, can you make it stop?” Luke demanded, his voice took over the unsub’s voice still playing in Steve’s phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can interfere with the signal. Are you sure you want me to do so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, wait.” Tara’s voice made its first appearance of the day. “I think we should get in touch with the TV station, we don’t know what’s going on there right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I heard them all talking but all my brain could focus on was: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>The FBI are traitors, Agents Contreras and Alvez are traitors. They are just foreigners disrespecting my home and deserve to die</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The unsub’s words, just as his disaster video looped in my head. I intertwined my fingers behind the base of my head holding it still and tried to relieve some tension that was already forming in the area.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How was it possible that just the previous night I had promised Spencer that I was not going to die on him and the next morning a man was openly threatening to kill both Luke and I?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course ‘threatening’ doesn’t mean that he could actually do it. But still, if Spencer was nervous before about not being by my side during this case, this was literally going to push him to the edge. I was anxious as well, I had sworn to him that I was not going to leave him, that history wouldn’t repeat itself. When I told him that, I hadn’t weighed how hard it was going to be to keep my word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The universe was having a blast laughing at me right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke’s hand rested on my shoulder, padded it a few times before I noticed that we were leaving the scene. Not sure of how but I climbed my way up the ditch and got inside the car with Danny, Steve and my friend. I checked my phone and made sense that the call with Penelope was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had zoned out for God knows how long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, where are we going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The TV station, Viv.” Luke answered. He was looking at me with pity. I hadn’t realized how abashed I presented myself after the video.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded. Forced myself to think about something else, something useful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not native Hawaiian.” I blurted out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve and Danny’s eyes peeked from the rear-view mirror, inviting me to explain further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He mentioned Aloha Aina. If I’m not mistaken it is the main idea of Hawaiian cosmology and culture. In rough words it states that we are all connected to each other, to all living things. It encourages people to create a bond with the land, but it means mostly nature; the ocean, streams, everything that sustains life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s correct.” Steve assured me with a single firm nod. “Papahānaumoku, or Papa as we call her is often a central figure of Aloha Aina. However she is depicted as a forgiving, loving spirit of Earth. Even towards humans who are the ones who abuse her the most by abusing nature.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So it doesn’t encourage killing, not even to people who sin against the land.” I confirmed and sighed in relief that I got it right. “He is using Aloha Aina as an excuse to execute his ideologies."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a Cultural History degree.” I interrupted Danny with the explanation. “I know a thing or two about Hawaiian folklore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That right there was a very Reid moment.” Luke joked and bumped me with his elbow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I put back my shades on, hoping that my eyes wouldn’t give away that I was getting flustered by being compared to my boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, I’m a bit lost.” The blonde guy snapped and turned around to face us, not caring how uncomfortable it was for Steve to have his head in the middle of the two front seats, blocking his view of the rear-view mirror. “Why does this mean that he isn’t native? You said he was born and raised here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Born and raised doesn’t mean native.” Luke took the lead explaining further. “People who don’t descend from the original habitants tend to ignore this type of folklore. Of course they can learn about it if they are interested enough, like Steve for example, but they usually don’t connect to those beliefs like a native person would.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is easier for someone like this to twist an ideology like Aloha Aina if they don’t fully understand it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a bit presumptuous and discriminatory.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is not.” I sassed Danny just like I did the first time we met. “These are just behavioral patterns and statistics the FBI had gathered over years of investigation. Nothing is settled, but most of the time, we are right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A smirk crossed his face, he held tight onto the headrest of the seat when Steve took a steep curve, yet that smirk never left his face. I couldn’t discern why he was being so cocky over this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you are so sure, let’s make a bet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke let a laugh out as he enjoyed the moment, he looked at me expectantly. Steve baffled and shook his head. “No, Danny. Don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bring it on.” I answered without hesitating for a second. Maybe I was being overly-confident with my profiling skills but I was not giving him the pleasure. “What happens if you win and our unsub is native Hawaiian?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His blue eyes enlarged two sizes up as he probably realized that his pool of suspects was rather small and that the overall odds were against him. I saw Steve’s head still shaking but now, from the movement of his back and shoulders I got that he was chuckling just like Luke was doing too. Steve had a fair idea that I was most likely right, yet he was up to see his friend fail big time just to shut him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I win…” The blonde guy sighed dramatically, pretending to be thinking. From the way he was looking at me I knew that he already had something in mind. “You go out on a date with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. So that was what this entire thing was about. Did I mislead him into believing my ass was flirting?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Contreras, are you having second guesses?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely not!” I yelled mildly before smacking the </span>
  <em>
    <span>deck </span>
  </em>
  <span>out of Luke’s back for laughing at the situation. “I can’t because I have a –a” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke’s left brow raised and his mouth parted ready to say something regarding a possible ‘I knew it’ if I said something like ‘I have a boyfriend’ or ‘I’m seeing someone’. I couldn’t let him know either. Plus, the odds were on my side, it was not like Danny was going to be right, anyway. I had nothing to lose. And Spencer wouldn’t know. Right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a home in Virginia. I mean, what happens if we go out on a date and you fall madly in love with me and I have to go back to D.C? What if I do? Would you move in with me or will you make me stay here? The answer is probably neither.” I articulated in the most confusing way I could think of. “Let’s spare ourselves that pain and not go out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My acting skills were the worst, but the way I put my ideas together was enough for him to get baffled. Danny pressed his lips and shrugged mildly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure we will figure something out if we fall madly in love with each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was now using sarcasm against me. Beautiful. My sole weapon had been pointed to me. I glanced at my friend pleading for his help, he just raised his hands and tilted his head as a way of telling me that I was on my own. Of course Luke was not going to stand up for me, he wanted me to find someone to love, or to have sex with, minimum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, whatever. But if I win, you’ll do something I haven’t decided yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not fair.” The guy complained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think about it this way; I can decide to go out with you, to spare you or something else…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Danny gave it a thought and finally agreed, extending his hand towards me to seal or deal. My eyes matching his in a piercing, daring stare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you guys done with your little games?” Steve startled us, this made Danny go back to his seat. “We need to focus on our next move.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ride to the station was not long, but it felt like it was. Mainly because we knew that while we drove, the video our unsub sent was being played over and over again. Scaring people all over the islands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally we arrived at the white big building, KHON2 written in big silver shiny letters. Steve made very little effort to park the car properly, just as he had done at the airport when he picked us up. I was noticing a pattern there, he couldn’t care less about the regulations on a parking lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We entered the station, flashing at the security guard and our badges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We want to talk to the person in charge.” Steve ordered the lady at the main desk. She analyzed him, doubting if she should point out the right direction for us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tall slim woman, with features resembling from her Hawaiian lineage appeared from one of the corridors. She was wearing a two piece set of a red skirt and blazer along with beautiful high heel shoes. Her outfit said glam, yet her face said gloom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I assume this is regarding the broadcast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You assume correctly.” Steve continued, leaving the lady at the desk alone. He now had a new target to focus on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made his way towards her, looking at the woman as if she was our unsub and not a possible victim. We didn’t know for sure what happened that made this TV station air the video the unsub wanted to share with the islands’ population. Normally, when a perpetrator asked for their manifesto to be published he included a threat; to kill some random person, to kill the columnist, reporter or even blow up the place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to talk.” I said loud enough to get Steve’s and the woman’s attention, they were a few meters away from us by then. “In private.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman nodded and signaled us to follow her. The four of us walked behind her and entered an elevator. The ride was fairly quiet and uncomfortable. The five of us staring at each other. I smiled mildly at the woman trying to get her to like me, if that was going to make her talk faster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am Rosalie ‘Aukai, the station’s director.” She finally introduced herself, her hands remained behind her back. She didn’t attempt to shake hands with us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“SSA Alvez, Contreras, Lieutenant McGarrett and detective Williams.” Luke flashed introduced us, pointing at each one with his chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not long after, the metal doors opened, let us all out. We followed her yet again through a few corridors until a wooden door with a plaque with her name and title showed. She opened the door and let us go first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The video came on a CD delivered to our door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rosalie spoke, her gaze concentrated in the drawers of her desk, fidgeting and shifting things until she found what apparently she had been looking for. She handed out a Ziploc bag with the CD and a folded paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought it might be important to keep it as impeccable as I could.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke grabbed the bag studying it. We would have to take the paper out if we wanted to read its content. I remembered I had put my latex gloves inside the pockets on my pants earlier when we left the latest crime scene. I put them on, took the note out from the plastic bag. It was printed, not handwritten, after skimming it, I disposed of myself to read it at loud for everyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Play this on a loop all day. Otherwise Rosalie ‘Aukai dies. Don’t call the police. Don’t call the FBI. Let me do my job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tara was right when she said that it was better to dig deeper on the station before cutting off the broadcast. There was no way we could’ve known if the unsub had a gun to someone’s head there, threatened them or their families. He knew who Rosalie ‘Aukai was and said that she would die if we cut the transmission. Now that we had her with us, we were rest assured that she was not getting killed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said this was delivered at your door?” Danny questioned Rosalie, who was now sitting on the chair behind her desk, his face filled with concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have the video when the security guard received it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She typed something in her keyboard, turned the screen so we could see. She had prepared herself for our arrival. Rosalie couldn’t call the police because she was threatened, but it didn’t say anything about us coincidently coming across KHON2. Rosalie knew that sooner or later we would go to them for answers and boy, she was ready.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The image showed an all in black guy, tall, pointing a gun at the security guard from far, literally dropping the CD on the floor and then walking away. Camera didn’t show exactly which direction he went, there was no way we could’ve seen his face. Also, what’s up with the gun? This guy’s weapon of choice was a leiomano. The only way we corroborated it was in fact our unsub was the hibiscus tattoo, or the confusing shadow of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is the security guard still here?” Luke asked to which Rosalie nodded. He turned to face us. “It wouldn’t harm to talk to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve and Danny exchanged glances before deciding that both of them were going to follow up with the security guard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I snapped a picture of the note before putting it away back on the Ziploc along with the CD. If there was a way to track where a CD came from, I wasn’t aware of it, thus believed that it was going to be pretty much useless unless there were fingerprints on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After getting rid of the gloves, I tossed them in my pockets again. Proceeded to elaborate a text for Spencer:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey, first of all, I just wanted to tell you that I plan on keeping my promise regardless of what’s going on.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I pressed the ‘send’ button, then wrote a second text:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Also; can you get ANYTHING from this? It was left along with a CD containing the mayhem video at the TV station, courtesy of our unsub. We’re taking it to forensics, but maybe you can find out something linguistic wise.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That one I sent with the picture of the note attached. The three dots moved announcing that Spencer was writing. I felt Luke lurking over my shoulder trying to read what I was writing and who I was writing to. I blocked my phone’s screen, making it go black reflecting my nosy friend’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Miss ‘Aukai, you need to come with us into protective custody. Just in case.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hoped that my voice was enough for Luke to focus on something else than my phone ringing shortly as it got multiple messages. His face went straight to Rosalie’s waiting for her to give us an answer, though honestly she didn’t have an option but to do so. We were going to tell Penelope to interfere with the transmission once it for all. We couldn’t risk the unsub complying with his word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds fine by me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke stood up and awaited for Rosalie to leave the room first only to follow her closely. I lingered in the office just a few more seconds to see what the texts were about.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know, I love you.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Followed by a longer, work-oriented one: </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll tell the team and don’t worry, I’ll figure something out. Let me know if anything comes up</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was sure that I was looking like a total </span>
  <em>
    <span>dumbax</span>
  </em>
  <span> standing in the middle of the office while holding my phone awfully close to my face just to re-read over and over again the ‘I love you’ part.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coming?” Luke startled me, his head popping from the door frame. “We gotta move.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” I answered without looking at him, typing a final text:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you, Spence.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0047"><h2>47. 46: Hawaii Division of Conservation and Resource Enforcement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Boom, I’m awesome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up, Penelope?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke interrogated the blonde woman on the screen, she was surrounded by the rest of the BAU team. His face adorned with a playful smirk. Sometimes I wondered if he even cared about keeping his affair with Penelope on the down low. I chuckled under my breath, following him inside the Five-0 headquarters where Adam, Jerry and Tani were already working.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve and Danny entered last since they had taken the security guard with a sketch artist, apparently he saw the unsub’s face and was able to describe it. The sketch wasn’t ready yet, but there were other things we could do in the meantime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got our latest victim ID.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I cheered to myself, then sat on one of the available chairs. There had been a lot of differences between this murder and the previous ones, finding this guy’s ID gave us a fair chance at understanding further why it was different from the rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His name is Leo Davis, he moved here about a month ago from Wyoming.” Tani spoke after Penelope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does he have a car?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He does, my G.I. Joe archetype.” Penelope responded in her most-self way possible addressing Steve; he grimaced for a moment. “I could only ID him because of the tags of his car, which I got from the traffic cameras. If you please pay attention to the screen, let’s roll video.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pick-up truck was the only thing in the middle of the road’s darkness. Out of nowhere, a motorcycle showed up, the tags weren’t visible due to the angle. First, Leo came out of his truck, then the man in the motorcycle left his vehicle. When they got close, the unsub hit Leo’s head with the back of his knife, then pushed him to the ditch. The murder had not been caught on tape. About forty minutes later, the unsub showed up again, only to force the motorcycle on the truck’s back and drive away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to put an APB on…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Already done.” Adam interrupted me and nodded reassuringly. “Nothing has come from it. Jerry and I also ended up empty-handed after visiting the tattoo parlors. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did Leo do?” Steve questioned. “He must’ve done something pretty bad for him to get stabbed 27 times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately we haven’t found that yet.” JJ sighed and scratched her chin. “He doesn’t have any acquaintances, family or significant other here that could hint us where he was before, well, you know. He’s pretty new to the community. The only thing we got is his job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He sells touristic plans on a call center.” Jerry responded to Danny's question. “Couldn’t that be enough to piss off the killer? I mean, he is a foreigner bringing more foreigners.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of my teammates' faces lit up as soon as Jerry suggested what he did. Our unsub now was getting rid of the problem from its roots, eliminating one by one was no longer efficient.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That actually makes sense, kid.” Rossi congratulated him, making Jerry blush a bit and hid his gaze. “That explains why he was so angry, the question is, how did our unsub find out that Leo worked at the call center?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe he works with him.” Tani implied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t think so, why would he do what he despises the most; bringing outsiders?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He wouldn’t.” Spencer replied to me though not necessarily addressing me personally. “We profiled that since he talked about Aloha ‘Aina in such a poor context that he isn’t…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Native Hawaiian?” Danny interrupted and chuckled, he positioned himself behind the chair I was sitting, and his hands gently squeezed my shoulders. “Smarty pants here already figured it out. Can’t wait to take her on a date when she’s proven wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pursed my lips and covered my eyes and forehead with the palm of my hand, not wanting to see any of my friends’ faces, less, Spencer’s. I could explain to him, no problem with that, but that wouldn’t make it any less awkward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to stay waiting because she’s right.” Spencer defended me, it was then that I dared to look at the screen. All of them looked amused with the situation but tried to dissimulate it. “Native Hawaiian or Pacific Islanders only make up 10.08% of Hawaii’s population, those are your odds. Meaning that there are 89.92% chances that Vivian is right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t sure if I was seeing correctly, but it looked like Spencer winked at me after throwing his handy statistics at Danny. I turned to face the blonde guy, who was still holding my shoulders, padded his forearm falsely comforting him. Steve joined the teasing by smacking his friends head: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Told you not to mess with the profilers.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Making him moan in pain and place his hands over the wounded area, finally freeing me from his grip. Laughter filled the room, both on our end and Quantico’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing wrong with having a small time out in the middle of an overwhelming case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, people, let’s concentrate here.” Prentiss called us out, the corners of her lips gave away that she was still giggling and not fully back on serious mode. “We profiled him to be a mission-oriented killer, he is a perfectionist, he has a stable job…let’s focus on that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took us a few more seconds to all regain our composure and focus on what mattered. I inhaled and exhaled deeply, clearing my head just like I used to do when I needed a fresh start.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We know he drives a motorcycle, and somehow has access to a lot of touristic places…” JJ began to formulate. “A lot of ‘free time’ as well, if he is able to follow the victims closely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He would also need to have access to Leo’s information, otherwise, how could he have known where he worked?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded agreeing with the last thing Prentiss said. My fingers fidgeted with each other before I couldn’t help but scratch my eyebrow anxiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A cop.” Jerry finally said, enlightening every one of us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That could explain also his motive; he feels like he isn’t doing enough for the island by sticking to the rules, he is going rogue.” Luke said with excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garcia” Tara called our tech analyst's name. “Check Honolulu’s P.D. body; eliminate anyone over the age of forty and less than thirty. No native Hawaiians nor people who recently moved; born and raised in Hawaii.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penelope typed with her signature fast speed, her eyes focused on the screen and moving along with the letters and pictures I assumed were popping up as she narrowed down her research. She raised her hand and signaled us to give her more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He drives a motorcycle. His house must have a garage or be secluded if he is hiding Leo’s truck.” Rossi added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, no, wait a second.” Danny imposed himself in the middle of the screen and us. “I know everyone at Honolulu P.D., none of them fit the profile nor have a hibiscus tattoo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garcia…” Prentiss ordered her to continue with her research.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Danny Ocean was right. I have zero, nada.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned to face Danny, my eyebrows raised as I was impressed. He tilted his head to the right as he shrugged the shoulder on the same side, an annoying cocky smile painted in his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about the DLNR Police?” Steve suggested, as he figured that most of us had probably no idea what he was talking about, he continued. “It is the ‘Hawaii Division of Conservation and Resource Enforcement’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s primary focus are State Parks, historical sites, forest reserves, aquatic life and wildlife areas, coastal zones, Conservation districts and shores.” Adam explained, looking directly at the BAU team since we were the ones who ignored it. “They are like ecology and culture police, per se.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do they have full enforcing power and means?” Tara demanded to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would explain while Julie remembered seeing some sort of lifeguard at the beach the day Camile was murdered.” I recalled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“DLNR Police is a better fit than Honolulu P.D. actually.” Prentiss pointed out, she studied her own thoughts for a second before sighing and looking at Penelope. “Garcia, same parameters, focus on DLNR Police.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right away my captain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she typed, she was simultaneously letting us know how her list was looking:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oahu has 42 Officers, born and raised: 29, between 30 and 40: 15, other than Native Hawiian: 10, living in a house, not apartment: 5. Sending files right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of these is not like the other…” Rossi chanted, I saw how he dug into the files on his tablet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bingo!” Tani yelled, getting everyone’s attention. “Group photo at the end, the one on the left has a hibiscus tattoo in his forearm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s Liam Winchester.” Spencer read from the file. “37, married. Has been a DLNR officer for 13 years. Yikes…he has a suspension for running over the belongings of a Cuban family with ATV after he saw them taking a jar full of sand with them. He almost got fired for this.” He looked at the team alarmed after his finding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That has to be the trigger.” Tara settled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In perfect synchronization, a guy entered the space holding a piece of paper. I assumed that it was the sketch they made of our unsub going by the security’s guard description. He gave it to the nearest person to the door, who was Luke. He held the paper, not a second went by before he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is our guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In that moment I wanted to gloat about being right about the guy not being Native Hawaiian, yet we had bigger issues than the dumb bet I had with Danny. I stood up, getting ready to leave at any second they told us to. I also used it as an excuse to steal the sketch from Luke’s hand just to confirm that we were talking about the same person. I took a picture of it and sent it to the rest of the BAU.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Penn, is there any way to know if he is on duty right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes there is a way…hear me type offended” My blonde friend answered me. “He is not. I’m sending you his house address.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve signaled the door, making everyone go in that direction. Luke and I remained behind just by a couple of steps. Our team looked at us with mixed emotions; pride, wistfulness and concern. They were safe and sound in the BAU’s headquarters, together. While Luke and I were in an unknown state to us, with people we met the day before, about to face off the person who said we deserved to die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alvez, Contreras.” Prentiss talked, getting our attention. “Be careful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both of us nodded. It took me a moment but I discerned that Luke was actually trying to hold my hand, I held his and squeezed it to reassure him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shouted our names all the way from the entrance of the building, making both Luke and I startled a bit. I bobbed my head once again, this time looking directly at Spencer. We then proceeded to leave the building. The Five-0 leader tossed at us bulletproof vests, which we put on immediately before hopping into the car along him and Danny. Tani, Jerry and Adam were driving in a separate car. Man, I missed our black SUVs so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>According to the coordinates and address Penelope sent us, the house was about thirty minutes away from downtown Honolulu. The sky was painting itself with orange, yellow and pink tones announcing that the sun was going to rest and the moon was about to join us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If I thought Luke drove awful, then Steve’s driving skills were straight out of the underworld. Multiple times I saw my life flashing before my eyes. I couldn’t die in a car accident. I couldn’t die, period. I had promised Spencer I was staying alive. I had to find a way to do it. Never in my life had I thought I would wish for Luke to actually be behind the wheel, he was just a tad more careful with his road manner. Perhaps I was already used to it so I trusted him plainly with my life. But Steve…I knew he was qualified and all, but man, my stomach was upside down and ready to empty itself if he hit a curve one more time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I allowed myself to look at the landscape through the car’s window, the ocean, the palm trees, and the beautiful watercolor-like sky. I wished we could actually have some time free to enjoy this view after we were done with the case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, we arrived at Liam Winchester’s house. It was medium sized, two stories, with a garage big enough for two cars, and just as predicted, it was practically in the middle of nowhere. Our car was parked almost parallel to the one where the other half of the team was riding. The motorcycle was not at plain sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four of us jumped out of the car, Steve signaled Adam and Tani to go to the back, Danny and him would check the garage while Luke and I entered through the main door. Jerry was staying in the car just in case we missed something and Liam tried to escape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke and I exchanged one final glance before we unsheathed our guns. I tried to access the house just jagging the door knob. It didn’t work. This gave my friend permission to kick the door open. I went in first; the living, dining room and kitchen were all cleared. We met Tani and Adam who had come up empty handed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Upstairs.” I pointed with my finger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four of us followed Adam’s lead, closely going up the stairs. Once we got to the second floor, we split given there were four doors. Perfectly ironic. I cautiously opened the one I was assigned to; it was painted in pastel colors, a half-built crib and a mobile going around on the ceiling lousily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Freeze!” I heard Luke’s voice screaming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I ran towards the origin of his voice, my heart raced as I got closer. I could almost taste the end of the case, almost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only it wasn’t Liam who Luke had cornered. It was Mrs. Winchester.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman was at the master bathroom door frame, holding tightly to it. She was barefoot, only wearing an oversized white t-shirt, her hair was soaking wet, a few drops damping her own shirt. Her face was tense, her lips parted and her eyes widened as she tried to understand what in the name of God we were doing there. She looked young, younger than Liam. She also had Hawaiian features.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is Liam?!” Adam demanded to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wife’s bottom lip began to shake, her hands holding for dear life to the door frame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He asked you something. Where is Liam?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luke!” I called my friend out as it caught my attention how Liam’s wife was now holding her tummy. It all came together, the nursery, her protectiveness over her abdominal area. “She’s pregnant. Calm down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two men stared at me, their eyes traveled the woman’s body until they noticed the baby bump. I put my gun back on its holster and approached her slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name is Vivian Contreras, I am with the FBI. What’s your name, sweetie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, I wouldn’t call sweetie to anyone who was my age and up, but this girl was about twenty or less. She was so scared. I could feel how confused she was for having some stranger rampaging to her home at night when she was getting out of the shower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alana Kahae.” She answered not hesitant. “Winchester, I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alana, we think your husband Liam is the man who has been hurting all the tourists. Have you seen the news?” Tani joined me, her gun was away as well. Alana nodded. “Can you help us find him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t know where he is.” She cried, still firmly holding her tummy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not going to hurt you, Alana.” I assured her. “We just want to know where your husband might be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I saw her eyes widening as thumping resulting from someone going up the stairs got louder. Steve and Danny were the ones climbing to get with us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leo Davis’ car is in the garage, but his bike isn’t there.” Steve shouted announcing his presence in the room, he stopped cold when he saw Alana. “Where is he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on!” I snapped at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was it really that hard to cut that poor woman some slack? She was frightened, barely dressed, pregnant and most likely clueless about her husband’s deeds. Was it a feminist thing to care for her and give her a chance? Or was it the humane way?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She needs to come with us, maybe she’ll talk if she is not being pointed at by four men with their guns as they scream at her demanding to know about her husband’s whereabouts.” I gave Alana my back so I could face Steve. “Tani and I can handle it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Now it is girls vs. boys?” Danny joked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but it should say something about the fact that women tend to open up more to other women than to men.” I shrugged my shoulders and faced Alana again. “You need to come to the station, I just want to ask you some questions, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without saying much she agreed.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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